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 fapping, suddenly there came a notification, As of some one gently smacking, tapping at my PC core “’Tis some butthurt reply,” I muttered, “Notifying at my PC— Only this and nothing more.” Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying thread wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow From my memes surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Slimy— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Slimy— Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each political thread Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating “’Tis some triggered user entreating entrance at my PCs Core— Some user entreating entrance at my PCs door;— This it is and nothing more.” Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, “Douchebag,” said I, “or Floodian, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was fapping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came smacking,notification at my PCs core, That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened the notification;— Only Likes and nothing more. Outside i looked Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream so shiny; But the silence was unbroken, and the likes that seemed so miming, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word for, “Slimy?” This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Slimy!”— Merely this and nothing more. Back into my chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore— Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;— ’Tis the wind and nothing more!” Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a Slim Goop of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony Goop beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “Though thy crest be slim and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Gapen Goop wandering from the Nightly shore— Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Goop “Liked this post” Much I marveled this ungainly slime to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing Slime above his chamber door— Goop or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Liked this post” But the Slime, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered—not a drop of slime he fluttered— Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have shown before— On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.” Then the Slime said “Liked this post.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore— Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ‘Liking—Liking this post.” But the Slim Slime still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of Slime, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous Goop of yore— What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous Slime of yore Meant in croaking “Liked this post.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the Slime whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, he shall press, ah, Like this post! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose slime-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Slimy; Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Slimy!” Quoth the Goop “Liked this post.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if slime or devil!— Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted— On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore— Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Goop “Liked this post.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if slime or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore— Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Slimy— Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Slimy.” Quoth the Goop “Liked this post.” “Be that word our sign of parting, slim fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting— “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore! Leave no black slime as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door! Take thy slime from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the Goop “Liked this post.” And the Goop, never flitting, still is sitting, [i]still is sitting [/i] On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—Like this post!