Polonius and Hamlet
Polonius survives. Hamlet's still
the annoying star, dithering his way
to a fifth act, finally taking action
when everyone else is either dead
or exhausted. For heaven's sake,
he talks to a skull!
Polonius means well and thus
is despised. He does wormy things
to adapt, can't choose the best
advice and so gives it all like
most dads, gets stabbed through
a curtain while trying for advancement
in the company.
Hamlets are indulged, petted,
and finally enshrined. They fret
out loud and grab attention--
you know the type. They can
make you forget they're royalty.
Polonius persists in millions if not
billions--necessary but mocked, not
of the inner circle, perched on
the circumference of power, shafted
by the radius. Oh, well: they both
end up dead in the play and living
in Yorickville, borrowing for a
mortgage, lending advice and
forcing soliloquies on their friends,
stabber and stabbee. Nobody wants
to spend a lot of time with either
one of these guys. They're a lot of
work, these two, Hamlet and Polonius.