matter
man of stone
For a hundred thousand days I walked
A hundred million words I talked
Till I saw a mass of people flocked
Around a man of stone
I stared in awe with the throng
As clerics sang a somber song
Through tears the masses sang along
It chilled me to the bone
“Why the down turned eyes?” I asked
Through noxious haze and sullen masks
The lot of them just sighed and gasped
This place was once his home
He must’ve been of great renown
To enthrall an entire town
And cause them all to spiral down
I knew I was alone
Alas I saw one sign of glee
Across the yard, beneath a tree
A child danced so merrily
Twirling in a gown
“What keeps you so upbeat, oh child?
When just across the street, a wild
Meeting of defeat has riled
All to wear a frown?”
“They mourn a man of cloth and kin
But I know that deep within
That holy man was rot with sin
Not worthy of his crown.”
“That dead man was my fathers lover
He used to yell and beat my mother
So me, my sis, and older brother
Arranged for him to drown.”
iffen wood
For ipsun tine actualized
React the afferfaven
Raffins rise factualized
Be bagamon or raven
​
For in that iffen wiffen wood
Of whafalooting waimen
Was warren-tine beliss of mine
For crowlodens and laymen
​
‘‘Twas but a glyph, a whiff
Of wrastledons lastetizing
Yet still the sight of
Bathylotilians ever is surprising
​
It’s to be said of iffen wood
Which beasts reside inside
If I hadn’t brought my vyong along
I surely would’ve died
an informant inside me
There’s an informant inside me
Who rewrites my dreams
Arranges my thoughts
Leaves evident seams
What he wants or who she is
Their visage eludes me
Paints over my vision
A Hollywood movie
Designed by time and faith and paint
Even the plaintiff is taking the bait
Analogous reality is easy to taint
A fist full of fairy dust
A coordinated saint
what difference?
Why does it make any difference
Whether the instance
Occured in the sun
Or at dusk
I still have the musk
That I gained in the act
As a matter of fact
It ruined the fun!
willows
Once again blow the winds the willows
Once again gorge the leaves on the sun
After winter so long
I forgot every song
All of them save for just one
On the bank of a river
In the heart of a wood
On the edge of a town called derry
Lives a man all alone
With the trees as his home
But he couldn’t be farther from scary
Each day he blows glass into raindrops
Each night he spins gold into thread
His left eye is blue
And the other can do
Things better off seen than just read
If I know anything about magic or men
I’ll tell you this one is the highest
He has fairy wings and all manner of things
But greater than all
He’s unbiased