The stoned fat cat does not know how i died
For me the stoned fat cat has never cried
Just rolled her silent sarcophagus eyes
Releasing doves into the bloody skies
The pink elephant staggers into the room
I look up from the dry white roses of gloom
I give a wooden smile greeting an ol’ pal
Whose grey trunk hides a bogey skeleton whale
We reminisce over hallowed skulls full of cider
Sitting round a sticky web spun by a tale spider
The stoned fat cat is curious about how i died
But turns her back as if her vexed scythe claws never pried
An ol’ wolf turns up to croon his missal tarot cards
howling at the sloshed moon with the other drunken bards
we cannot escape from our tarred knotted rope tethers
While the moon hides behind a cloud of bloody feathers
The eternal candle flickers and my shadow swaggers in
An empty bottle of dark rum elongating his thin skin
As he stretches out behind me on the cold flat barren yearth
I see the stoned fat cats litter box was all my souls were worth
I watched the stoned fat cat extend her scrying scythe needle claws
Then scratch into a wooden sundial ten fatal mortal flaws
As the apish tooth fairy brute extracts my white fungi teeth
To grow in the maw of my monkey orchids osmosis wreath
As the leeching darkness of life bleeds into eternal light
We forgive our lost nobodaddies manifestation slight
The fat cat stares as we blur into the pickling light with dread
For alone in her box, Curiosity has not been fed
©bg 2024
poopling soup recipes #140
there was a poet that wore strange wigs
they were made with wool and broken twigs
his rhymes were always corked
their meaning often forked
as that poet wrote between rum swigs
©bg 2022
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #128
there was a poet in a fresh grave
who rang a bell for his butler dave
but dave had gone away
to serve time without pay
for giving the poet his last shave
©bg 2022
authors notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #199
there was a goblin driving a car
after drinking all night in a bar
the road threw a hard right
then ducked down out of sight
thats how goblin's world became fubar
©bg 2023
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #201
there was a bard down to his last dregs
he could smell his devils rotten eggs
a shadow held his hand
it's skin felt like wet sand
as the bards opus ran out of legs
©bg 2023
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #209
there was an ape sitting in a tree
he jumped from his damp nest to fly free
orange leaf raindrops fell
on the broke carousel
as the ape joined the fun parks debrie
©bg 2023
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #133
there was a peddler escaping jail
through the belly of a great white whale
only to be stranded
when darkness expanded
as the white whale slowly did exhale
©bg 2022
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #130
there was an old poet oracle
who saw all fate as historical
when he saw his own end
it drove him round the bend
the poet's doom allegorical
©bg 2022
authors notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
poopling soup recipes #138
there was a witch living in a box
her partner was a bit of an ox
their romance a pox maze
to the end of their days
when their storms washed away their love box
©bg 2022
authors notes
pox -,a curse.
poopling soup recipes #202
there was a wizard cutting a lime
the lime aroused an internal rhyme
he watched one more sunset
smoked his last cigarette
then that wizard met with father time
©bg 2023
author's notes- not a Limerick it's a lymberbrick
resurrecting the trashcan bard 
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