STRANGE ADVENTURES, INDEED
The air was blister-cold when I arose,
in starlit dark, amidst the evergreens
I shuddered at the thought of things I'd seen
that night, when I had burrowed in the snows
Recall, I could, an ape with thirteen toes
Just eight for walking, five to hail the queen
A tattered patch draped where an eye had been
He spoke with an uncanny Irish brogue
The ape, he juggled 'murdersworth of crows
And bragged of his collector's figurines
He said he'd fancy showing them to me
Then stroked my ragged whiskers, soft and slow
I ran like hell, like Yeager's sonic boom
-- Perhaps I need to lay off all the shrooms
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