There I stood;
Alone in the alley without a hood.
Looking for lost; lonely,
Pancake mix at any cost.
Wherefore, whence and up the tree thence;
Skirt ripping and wig off-falling,
Up the ladder of its withered branches
I’ll forever ascend.
Trees and pancake mix are all I
Have left. Stirring the mix;
Breakfast is the best.
Heretofore, subdural hematoma, subpoena
With a servant-girl named Gina.
Powder-bowl, water-added, liquefy!
Looking up, descending from a syrup sky.
Transient tremor, twiggle-tot sticks.
Feel my pain!
There I lay, trees and pancake mix,
As they say…