Funny to me how our species sorts blame
Seeking always figments to which a name
Hangs clumsily, like donkey tail with pin,
On shoulder, head, or tup with one stuck in;
As if it makes us wiser to be told,
"Man cheated on his spouse 'cause he felt old,
Daughter cheated on her test from pressure,
Cat regretted jumping off the dresser."
Why do we tease this bit of whimsied fluff
Trying to make from nothing cause enough
To start a war or start something quicker,
Light a short fuse and watch the sparks flicker?
Conscience from action is divisible,
A merest flirtation, invisible.

Name the actress who played Bat-villainess
Setting an invisibility test,
Orange hat-wearing Doctor Cassandra,
Who starred with Bogie in "High Sierra"
And with her husband in this episode
Where unfortunately Olga implodes,
Having seen then from out in the Great Hall 
What Antoine had never done over all:
Take a long swig from the bottled scotch
Then instantly resume a half-wild crouch;
She saw in his eyes the mad, helpless look
Desperate man craving for what he forsook
The night they met, and now sobriety
Left behind with all their propriety.

She suffered an assault on the landing
That made her bolt from where she was standing
As she bent low to pick up Emily,
Adorable helmet worn angrily,
A sound like her daughter's voice in her head,
"Disappear, Mama! Go away!" it said.
Her spine twisted and down the stairs she went,
Such a look on the baby's face, content.
For the only time in many a day
The cross wire in Emma's head had its say,
She stubbornly having refused before
To say what the doctor all but implored,
And where was Gramps, his courage risible,
Claiming to be helpless, invisible?

Antoine a cause interpreted for years
Of Olga sprawling down the swirling stairs,
Certain that she saw him drink he blamed it,
One more pointless victim of the shame it
Carries, liquor of obliteration,
Poor man swearing to his own damnation
Because he heard a voice say in his mind,
"'I'll take one swig to get me through, this time.'
Inconsequential flutter in the head!
How could mere thought be why my wife is dead?"
Why should one think himself a bloody king,
Because some crony saw it in a dream?
All that matters is what's inside the flesh,
And chance provides the rest, the cosmic mesh.