The Jabber-Fixing

​’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

​He stood within the Tulgey Wood,

In Harlequin of teal and gloom,

A Trickster-Prince who understood

The architecture of the doom.

​"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

The biology is quite undone,

A structural form you cannot match!"

​He took his Crystal Vial in hand:

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree,

And fixed his cuffs, as was his thought.

​And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

​One, two! One, two! And through and through

The Azure Mist went swish and hiss!

He did not cut the beast in two,

But gave it an Alchemic Kiss.

​The scales turned smooth! The fur turned hard!

With sudden click and plastic-clack!

The monster froze upon the yard,

A statue shining, front and back.

​It stood there, glossy, stiff, and bright,

A Mannequin of monstrous size!

With joints of resin, locked and tight,

And painted polish on its eyes.

​"And hast thou fixed the Jabberwock?

Revised its chaotic design?"

"I have," said Max, and checked his clock,

"The aesthetic is now quite fine."

​O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

He chortled in his bespoke vest.

He dusted off the blue-gas spray,

And put the Toy-Beast to its rest.

​’Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.