Does Chuck dance?
Very well then he dances,
(Chuck is large, Chuck contains multitudes.)
The Stephen and the King wilt—Hollywood has fill’d them, emptied them.
And proceed to fill their next intellectual property of the future.
Moviegoer up there! what have you to confide to me?
Look as I snuff the Oscar hopes of Mike Flanagan’s “The Life of Chuck,” from the King’s tale
(Talk honestly, no Flanagan fans hear you, and I type only a minute longer.)
Is Chuck an accountant?
Very well then he accounts,
(Chuck is large, Chuck contains multitudes.)
I concentrate toward the end that is nigh, I wait for Chuck, as prophesized, to die.
Who has done Chuck’s day’s work? will he soon be done with his arithmetic?
Must Chuck’s mean grandpa bid him doff his dancing shoes for math’s sake?
Will you flee before Chuck is gone? is it already too late to see “Sinners” a third time instead?
Is Chuck the universe?
Very well then the universe is Chuck,
(Chuck is large, Chuck contains multitudes.)
Oh, fuck.
