Perspicacious pimps make jingles out of crime.
The crèche of dope is there, if you need ‘quiet time’.
Incipient, the sushi train roars round the bends of fate,
Princess Origami smokes 'cause Madam Skim is late.

Animals on menus, the blood of saints for sale.
Refugees from a sunken earth scuba dive beyond the pale.
Madam Skim now orders up to celebrate the end
of another war where no one knew who was foe or friend.

old,
which is gold
never mind still I will appear
as yesterday there would have been a tear
when I fell almost to finality
ere fatality
my deafness and the road least taken
were at fault,
as I took the tunnel of darkness
to avoid wrath
there was then the calamity
I wanted you to know
wow, fell flat in the darkness
no one knows,
yet in pain with broken arms
a shattered shin
and a twisted knee
all the pain got better of me,
as fatality
relatives all turned docs to salvage

The last golden leaves of autumn
sit quivering atop the tree
all having left the limbs on bottom
left them nude for all to see

Indeed it seems that this strip tease
of fall is coming near its end
as tatters drift down on chill breeze
each tapping limbs in northern wind

They garb the ground in garish paint
at least until they fade to dun
beneath the light now growing faint
as shadows stretch from setting sun

The night was clear, the stars shone fierce,
and starlight through the foliage pierced.
The fields were open, vacant glades
of stagnant air and bending blades.
The rivers quiet, waters still 5
beside the foot of aging hill.
The banners limp in standing air
and towers gleaming proud and fair.
The clouds were gone, the sky was clear,
yet closer crept a shadow drear. 10
With each rank breath it slithered on,
toward the banks of Lilion.
It slithered on with each rank breath:
the malevolent face of death.