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Retrieved Passage 3:
From The Book of Days, Sonnet 2


For Lo! I must relate this tome to you
who gather here to listen and believe
to tell the story I believe is true
before my sanity (BARK!) takes its leave.
The Spuds in Exile traversed the terrain
wearing long dresses of the fine-spun silk
all travelling by sedan car and train
with their bright ears fresh-bathed in llama milk
and (UUUURRRGGHHH!!) such necklaces as seldom seen
made of gold-plated prunes and aubergines
graced the neck-less heads of brown and green
of these arcane potato libertines.
And (WOOF!) soon you must go and leave me here
for my time of insanity is near.




Retrieved Passage 4:
A Running Transformathon


Mutation comes: hair after little spiny hair
appears on palms and small akimbo knees
and he is wont to don dark leather underwear
and mumble backwards in dour blasphemies

The beer flows, the cape swirls, the spud appears
grinning like a satyr in the dark
with twin horns standing up like stabbing tuber spears
he's poised to lope and gibber in the park

Mutation comes: the cycle goes and comes again
when the moon's bright halo lights the sky
the spud goes skinny-dancing at your window pane
and howls along with every mad dog's cry.




Retrieved Passage 5:
Revenge of The Jelly Men


I dreamed a dream,
screamed a scream,
a vocal vent of pain:
the Jelly Men are coming
to find me here again!
They are coming slow and stealthy,
they are coming with blancmange,
they are coming back to pelt me
with a stale Victoria sponge.

I see the day
fade away
to all-consuming black;
the Jelly Men are coming
in dark, deadly attack!
with their moaning and their howling
and their teeth fiercely displayed,
and their custard dogs slow-prowling
in the sleepless, shifting shade.

A sound of drums,
the tyrant comes,
on legs covered in hair!
The Jelly Men are coming
with their dark, demented stare!
I will lash them with strong cable,
I will fight them fearlessly,
I am here under the table
merely out of strategy.
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