The Bedlam Of The Bedlam


A young man astride a rocking horse His petticoats bristling His eyes closed with pleasure enjoying the euphony of his fork scraping his plate
Facing him sits a filthy oldie shaking his dentures like castanets Whistling through his nostrils, giggling with tears in his eyes
The clattering of my teeth Sometimes a coff, sometimes an achoo
Heard a cry for help, but didn't pay attention Thought it was only myself as usual - the beldam of the bedlam
A toothless hag moving eyeball-beads in an abacus They stare so, they stare so on her rope of pearls: A row of Lilliputian skulls on a string
The oldie chants the alphabet in an order he has fixed himself Once he strode down the aisle with a wedding gown on an arm's length
His bride-not-to-be (anymore) in the soil right outside
The youngster tells about how he once lay in a bathtub barely conscious in rusty-bloody-red water
The bathtub tiptoed on lionpaws to the landing, tipped over and flung him down the stairs on a rusty-bloody-red runner
I'd like to tell them about a dragon with hiccups Hiccuping fire in headwind, burning itself But I'd better not







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