His Imperial Toadiness

Billie Collins' (former Poet Laureate of the US) poetry is soooooo much fun to read aloud. Cast your voice in the deepest possible register and repeat:

NEUROLOGY

I never mind them

reminding us

that we use only a tiny fraction

of our brains,

a section the size of a small toad

according to some.

It is enough every day

to hear the soft commotion

of his tumbling

through the lawn within,

a lump of brown moving in the grass,

and every night,

to sense his stillness

as he sits on a dark, wet rock

hour after hour,

looking so imperial,

blinking into the rain

I am thinking of reading this as an audition piece for a voice-over job.