The prosecutor asked the girl,
"Ms. Muffet, on that day
Did you not sit upon a tuffet
Eating curds and whey?"
"Indeed I did," Ms. Muffet said
And daubed away a tear.
"I thought I'd found a private place
To dine and feel no fear."
The prosecutor's eyebrow raised.
"You thought you were alone?"
Ms. Muffet nodded. "I would not
Have stayed if I had known
That horrid creature waited there.
He stalked me. It's a curse
That women such as I must face.
Each day's a little worse."
"Ms. Muffet, please—" the trial judge said
"—a simple 'yes' or 'no'
Is all we need. And Counselor,
Please get on with this show."
"Yes, sir," the prosecutor said.
"Ms. Muffet, tell the court
About the confrontation. Seems
The two of you made sport."
"MADE SPORT?" the outraged Muffet cried.
"I call that molestation!
He put eight nasty hands on me
Despite my protestation!"
He said, "That's when you murdered him."
A statement, not a question.
Ms. Muffet knew the jig was up;
He wanted her confession.
"Alright," she said. "I took his life—
But don't be so judgmental.
I tried to run and dropped my bowl;
T'was purely accidental."
The prosecutor faced the bench.
"Your Honor, I suggest
She pay the strictest penalty.
The prosecution rests."
The judge just sighed. "You waste my time
With trivial concerns.
She killed a stupid spider, man—
Forget it! Court's adjourned."