Page Eight

How rude she was,

This random specter,

To speak of peculiarities

In this morning's lecture.

So mocked Her, he did

With a hand and some sounds,

That rang MUAH BWAH BLAH

From the skies to the grounds.

Snapped the hand shut, that spoke out of turn,

Ending the cleverness of his hand puppet burn.

But the whole scalding did not stop there,

Though One hand was rude, hands are a pair.

The Left was so rude, the Right would proclaim.

Where I am prolific, the Left is profane.

The boy was the Fool, spinning a tale,

Curled shoes and a lyre; a holler and wail.

Not a One was fooled by the time wasting farce'

Fate was afoot, and patience is sparse.

A giggle.

A smirk.

"Very funny" She said.

"NOW SHUT UP"

She roared,

Bringing fear of the Dead.

The boy zipped his lip,

He'd had his good fun,

The Jests sleep for now,

But the Fool's never done.

At least he was silent,

So she moved right along,

To the business at hand,

Escaped Her mouth in a song.

I am Arrien,

The bird's name: Monstur

Our world is infected,

You are Hotumn: The Cure.