Jitter Issue #4
Gentleman Jak's Jest
Up above crooked chimneysCaked with owl droppingsThe bubbling hot blossomsOf the October starsTell their tales of woeThough few are listeningFor all the worldIs crying in a pool of its own bloodI am as dead as a funeral unattendedOnly stray cats will chant Kaddish for meFor I died during a full moonChanneling degrading psychic thingsBut then all my life I have kissed the hind quartersOf some very dangerous magicAnd consorted with soul sucking fiendsAnd it's all put away now in dusty boxesThat talked to the authorities in a rhyming speechAnd now in this season ofPumpkins straight off the vineAs an antique hearse glides past an autumn seaThough they think I paid for all my crimesThey never had an inkling of half my deeds.