I met myself coming the other way
My step was light, my eyes were clear
And I had the nerve to say
“Hey old man, you’re awfully slow
Your manners are much worse
The way you move it looks like
You’ll soon be in a hearse!”
I looked at this youth of wonder
And under my breath I swore
That if I had my time again
I’d study, work and play much harder
And not think on my own gain.

When Christ looked down upon the world
With such joy!
The dialectics of Plato
To him were but a toy
And the wilyness of the Sacred Muse
He did employ
To win his place in heaven
Pippa doesn’t like pepper
It makes her sneeze
She laughs and drips a beeswax candle
On her knees

The sun howls, and goes down
A patina of cloud hovers above
Out in the wasteland we are stoned immaculate
The moon perches a star on her cloven hoof horn