Death of the Lochness Monster
I once thought I could make it home
Since I laid rope to walk upon.
It rose up high and took my life
And ripped my bowels like a knife.
The groping talons cut my throat
And threw my heart into a boat.
With nothing left but scattered seeds
Each bloodied leg fell in the weeds.
The gaping wound held ragged shape
Rich layered canvas formed a cape.
Thick fluids spread upon my face
Successively close breathing space.
Each tentacle lay down the brush
All sails lay down to end my rush.
I saw a light and I could climb
They led and sang our monster rhyme.
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