Trying To Get Scarpia Out Of A Deep Hole
Candles in each hand, not at his head this time.
He loved beauty and hearing arias, both to his credit.
The yellow pages of his fevered imagination are now
Crinkled with time, but I will be his alter ego, with him
At the altar of his discontent — he wanted more than
Seeing beauty, needed the having of it, and he could
Have been an A+ in musical appreciation, the way
He was in the middle of the scene, well costumed.
But he used the wrong tactics, almost as though he
Did have a tin ear, immune to the nuances, the trills
The sharps and flats needed for proper plotting.
He just botched up the scenario with his sleazy
Behind the scenes finding ways to “off” the hero
And have the heroine all to his very sexy own.
This is a sort of write in vote for him, Scarpia:
Bad guy, through and through, but you know
The adage about the way good can come of evil.
I mean the way Verdi did it (no, you idiot — I mean
Puccini) the way he made the opera and TOSCA.
If only Scarpia had listened to his own inner ear
He might have developed perfect pitch and turned
Everything upside down and won her for his own.