Where was your secret, Ludwig? In your hair?
We bore off seven locks to analyse
For lead, or liver, eager to revise
Old diagnoses. We observed due care:
There isn’t much van Beethoven to spare!
And all agree, whatever could arise
From such a head would have to be a prize:
We have a duty to detect and share.
So here they are, these seven garnered strands,
And close inspection has discovered this:
No undue lead. The liver could explain
His grief. Now everybody understands.
Conclusion? In the last analysis,
The Philistines are here again, again.
Julia Griffin
