Don't mention the name in vain if you value your life
there's an angry mob on the loose
and they need no excuse for abuse of a goose named Red
He may be a slayer within his own head
but you're being unkind Michael... said the Barrister's Wife
for he carries no knife
if you value your life you'll withdraw
and leave the eclectic alone.
For they speak of atrocities long since gone not attractive to some but his mum
though where was he primarily from.
A path leering deep in the gully rues his childhood pen
as his friends need not frequent and then
The city's are spilling with streets not easy to thread
where his father would spin on his head for a dollar a time
while his mother now bays 'neath a blood stained shoal at last
averting her eyes from his craze
he's been wearing that beehive for days
We're truly amazed he remembered his station
so long in the tower he crashed
As a rapacious vision surveyed Katherine's gaudy shack
in a long black mack and tack to bind the vessel near
Foilage irks the diminutive throng who's pursuit is pensive in the stark and mud
Then a thud as a body slumps an assailants stump as chaos erupts in the dark
their lanterns not aiding the cameraman's plight
but Michael will sleep rough tonight
The pendulum's set, the terrain is wet, the serpeants awake, he didn't forget
now Red's fully equipt to withstand their writ.
with a barrel of ale and a bucket of spit.
Copyright © Frankie Gaynor-Archer