Mausoleum Man
Oh longest time it seems yiv dreamt, me Mausoleum Man,
Coffed in Mummy's charnel home stove 'round your stonewings' span.
You Monk brod in yar bunkous cell, 'tween sellow stone sainwalls,
All hued in Olden Woldic green by lichen spattered greenfalls.
You Embalm-ee bequested: just unnatural light for me;
So acid lamps cast all he's shades and the flotsome seeds of 'is swampless trees.
'Fore Lindo it seems he writ naivic skrit, entranslatid his laundrous floor;
But en wake of 'is ex-excavation, e'll read none of 'at the same, nevermore.
Copyright © James Brown | Year Posted 2020
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