home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
ftp.barnyard.co.uk
/
2015.02.ftp.barnyard.co.uk.tar
/
ftp.barnyard.co.uk
/
cpm
/
walnut-creek-CDROM
/
MBUG
/
MBUG177.ARC
/
CHEMXMAS.POE
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1979-12-31
|
3KB
|
127 lines
A Visit From Father Chemistry
ááá Twas the night before Xmas,
áááá The lab was quite still;
ááááNot A Bunsen was burning
áááá (nor had they the will).
ááááThe test tubes were placed
áááá Iεáthei≥ rack≤ witΦágrea⌠ care
ááááIn hopes Father Chemistry
áááá Soon would be there.
ááááThe students were sleeping
áááá So sound in their dorms,
ááááAll dreaming of fluids
áááá And Crystalline forms.
ááááLab aides in their aprons
áááá And I in my smock
ááááWere sitting recov'ring
áááá From semester-end shock.
ááááWhen outsidethe lab
áááá There arose such a roar
ááááI leaped from my stool
áááá And fell flat on the floor.
ááááOut to the fire escape
áááá All of us flew.
ááááWhat was the commotion?
áááá None of us knew.
ááááThe flood-lights shone out
áááá O'er the campus so bright
ááááIt looked like old Stockholm
áááá On Nobel Prize Night.
ááááMy fume-blinded eyes
áááá Then viewed (dare I say?)
ááááEight anions pulling
áááá A water-trough sleigh.
ááááAnd holding the bonds
áááá Tied to each one of them
ááááWas a figure I knew
áááá As our own Papa Chem.
ááááWith speeds in excess
áááá Of most X-rays they came.
ááááAs they dopplered along
áááá He called each, by name.
áááá"Now nitrite, now Phosphate,
áááá Now Borate, now Chloride.
ááááOn Citrate, on Bromate,
áááá On Sulfite and Oxide.
ááááForget what you know
áááá Of that randomness stuff,
ááááLet's go straight to that roof,èáááá If you've quanta enough."
ááááAs fluids Bernoullian
áááá Behave in a pinch,
ááááThose ions said, " Alchemist,
áááá This is a cinch."
ááááSo up to the lab-roof
áááá Those "chargers" they sped
ááááWith Pop Chemistry safe
áááá In his water-trough sled.
ááááJust a microsec later
áááá Electroscopes showed
ááááCharged particles coming
áááá To our lab-abode.
ááááWe raced back inside,
áááá And what do you think?
ááááDown the fume-hood Pop Chem fell,
áááá Right into the sink.
ááááHe was dressed in a lab-coat,
áááá Quite ragged and old,
ááááWith removable buttons
áááá (The style, we're told)
ááááA tray-full of beakers
áááá He clutched to his heart-
ááááAnd under his arm
áááá Was an orbital chart.
ááááHis eyes through his goggles
áááá I just couldn't see.
ááááHis hands were all yellow
áááá From H-N-O-3.
ááááHis head was quite bald
áááá With a fringe all around
ááááLike a ring test for iron,
áááá That same shade of brown.
ááááHe puffed a cigar
áááá With a smell not at all,
ááááUnlike the organic lab
áááá Right down the hall.
ááááThe smoke billowed forth
áááá From his angular face
ááááAnd with Brownian Movement
áááá Enveloped the place.
ááááHe was thin as a match
áááá And not terribly tall
ááááHe wasn't the type
áááá I'd expected at all.
ááááBut a look at his clothes,
áááá In the lab's harsh white light,
ááááWith their acid-burn wholes-
áááá He's a chemist all right.è
ááááHe didn't say much
áááá (He had no time to kill)
ááááAnd filled all the test tubes
áááá With nary a spill.
ááááThen placing them back
áááá On the benches with care
ááááHe dashed to the fume-hood
áááá And rose through the air.
ááááHe called to his team
áááá And his ions took off.
ááááAnd kinetics took care
áááá Of Pop Chem and his trough.
ááááBut I heard him cry out
áááá As he flew down the street,
áááá"Merry Christmas to all!
áááá May your stockrooms stay neat!"