Bustin' Elves

In case you actually missed Joan's sestina:


Being The Lord of the Rings Sestina

Nine companions set out from Rivendell,
Led by the most effeminate of Elves.
They journeyed in order to make a quick toss:
A great lake of fire, a small ring of power.
They were happy to leave and toasted with a pint;
Fucking lembas bread isn't as tasty as meat.

But there's more than one kind of delicious meat
To be found on the road from Rivendell;
And the mead goggles that come when you shotgun a pint
In the company of smoldering, pouty-lipped Elves
Can wield a strange but alluring new power;
A dwarf's not the only thing you can toss.

Not all love can be measured by pint;
It might be torn asunder in one swift toss
By a devilish beast that's the bane of the Elves.
It hungers for attention and old man meat
Just like Mr. Anderson in Rivendell
The uppity one with the eyebrows of power.


Never should have fucking left Rivendell
Could have tapped that sweet evenstar ass of the Elves
Could have shown ol' horseface just what to toss
And reveled in greasy Gondorian power.
Another op'nin, another pint;
In the sandwich of fellowship, I am the meat.

On the road to Isengard, the tower of power
If I slit a throat, would it fill a whole pint?
These Uruks smell worse than Rivendell.
I managed to drop my leaf brooch with a quick toss.
I can't carry it for you, but I can carry meat.
Give it to us raw and wriggling; you keep nasty Elves

I'd cut a bitch just to get a cold pint
Like the Magic Bullet, I can chop and toss
But I can't get my hair to stay sleek, like the Elves'.
In this deepening darkness, love is my meat.
It's like they told me in Rivendell
The smallest hobbit can contain great power.

A new power is rising, a dark lord to toss
Rivendell sends forth a fellowship of meat
Let's drink a pint to the Elves.

- Dame Livia Harlowe