By Edgar Allen Poe

Baltimore, Maryland (1841) -

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more."

Thus I began the poem that placed me - nay, launched me - like an infernal steam engine (those noisy ruinous beasts) into a circle of celebrity unwarranted and most unexpected. Orphaned at less than 2 years old, taken in by charitable but solemn Virginians, failed at formal education, weakly washed out of West Point. They claimed I was besotted, and that was one of the kinder gestures granted by the chattering classes.

Until they were smitten with the words. Those words that flowed like a ruptured cistern, full of water and bile and smoke, landing on my page with a fury and a stench. 'Twas more than I could bear. Like a week of bad meals, it had to get out of me one way or the other. And so, I poured my heart out and left blood on the parchment. They lapped it up like rabid creatures, eager to have another "hero" to acclaim. Until, of course, they moved on to the next tart that caught their fancy. Like the Christ in Holy Week, how I entered the stage to shrieks of "Hosanna!" only to be torn asunder and trampled underfoot once my true nature was revealed.

As I lay wallowing in a stupor of misery, an odd fellow in unusual garb appeared in my bedchamber. I thought perhaps he was an apparition or even the sinister Thanatos. Although, I might have welcomed the afterlife given the tragedy of my brief existence. Alas! It was neither. The odd fellow identified himself as a Mister James Naismith. He claimed to be traveling with a Mister Elon Musk. Mister Musk was outside in a most peculiar carriage. They implored me to join them on a trip - they promised it to be a grand adventure - to witness a spectacle that transcended space and time. I inquired as to the location of this trip, and the means of transportation - the cobblestone streets being in great disrepair - and they chuckled in reply.

"We are going...to the future. And we don't need roads!" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3AfIvJBcGo

I joined the eccentric troupe and together we made quite the outlandish trio. We arrived in a mere snap to a place south of my home and far, far ahead in time. They asked me to attempt two assignments: First, to write about the WLC BBALL League of February 16, 2020, in poetry. Second, to taste the most decadent pastries called "Duck Donuts". I boast to all that I attempted both and each was exquisite. Now, I may truly rest in peace. Quoth the Raven "Nevermore!"

'
EDKH @ DAT SMOKE

The Butler Did It, But It Wasn't Enough

The Butler did it, but it wasn't enough, this bouncing ball made of leather so tough,
Over and over from great distances he lobbed, shot after shot through the night so macabre,
Jackson and Baker and Dworske did too, but Chapman and Traynum were down with the flu?
EDKH stepped into the mist, desperately flailing for Aaron to miss,

None could foresee the trap had been set, into his Webb they fell like his shots through the net,
Templeman is cunning and crafty, his entire lineup divine
Allen and Dorsey nearly tripled in points, boards, and dimes,
Swango chipped in so pure and so true, Brown and Egerton as well; did what they do,

In the end, a torrent of baskets were made as Webb punched in for thirty-nine,
Which is also the partial title of a great book by a new friend of mine
On to the next game, in the series of three,
A chaos of calamities for the Bulls of Windy City.

'
BLNW @ Windy City Bulls

Fear and Loathing in A Midwinter Night's Dream

Theseus, Egeus, and Hippolyta, of course,
All the gods arrived to enchant the great court,
Strongest of all and most clearly deadly,
Sivells the Languid and his arrows of Three,

More to be sure, arrived on this night,
All of BLNW came to the fight,
Sir Earl and Young Kory, the Duke of Defense,
Knights Harold and Garrett with Boards so Intense,

For Crown & Kingdom, they fought with the rage of Robin Hood,
Alas and alack! They faced crusaders who fought not-so-good,
The names are well-known, the faces familiar,
But their blows were weakened, their scoring peculiar,

Count Gregory and Duke Andrew, Sir Corey appeared,
Baron Brown and Sir Sammell always to be feared,
Even Lord Washington arrived on the scene,
But Lord Calvin was amiss, his wound turned to gangrene,

Would there was more I could relay of this battle,
BLNW rode like wraiths in no need of a saddle,
This Running of the Bulls was no run whatsoever,
They seek redemption both now and forever.

'
3's Company @ JUIC3 CR3W

Of Sound & Fury, Signifying Meh

As midnight approached, the cheering crowd waned,
But Naismith, Musk and yours truly remained,
For a final game of "hoops" is splendid to see,
And this one promised a great deal of sound and fury,

Onto the hardwood strode the Company of Cinco minus Dos,
Across the way, resplendent in experience, awaited the Crew of Juice,
The ball had barely been tipped and already our hopes were shattered,
Deontae's troupe fired away, building a lead that left the CR3W in tatters,

We wondered and hoped, perhaps a comeback would ensue,
With Duvon and Rodney and Jerell, anything could be true,
Mr. Cooper told his teammates, "come, hang with me"
And proceeded to lead them to 15 made threes,

A well-rounded attack with Pochekailo, Elliott, Holser and Small,
Not to mention Peters & Sinkuc, the most tenacious of all,
It was simply too much for the Brinson-less Juice,
No mention of Simpson, even though he is loose,

The final horn sounded and Mr. Musk ignited our chariot through time,
I hope that you all have enjoyed my feeble rhyme,
And perhaps I'll return, with much more in store,
For WLC BBALL, I pray to never say "Nevermore!"