‘POET‘:
I've come down from the tabulating Mount,
Mounted are my horns, tremulous my touch;
The internet Loves of which I've lost count
Twitch in memory a little too much.
GOD:
Rail on, Demented One, the last boat has sailed;
Knotted underwear in mouth, at all you quail.
UNDERTAKER:
I converse with the Reaper, your number’s up;
Put your brittle dentures in a starry cup.
ROD McKUEN:
Your words, like mine, shall be legendary song
Remembered by those who snort from bold bongs.
‘POET‘:
You may well jest, but my legacy is made
From psychedelic bubbles, tart lemonade.
My time is at hand, omens shade the shades;
I'll stake bets on passing 'hos with French braids.
GOD:
Roll up the carpet, I'm blowing this pop stand.
Let the ‘poet’ soothe with piteous gland.
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