The scarecrow hears you scream,
from the backyard,
and you run back to the house.
You want to wipe your hands off,
get out of there,
and see the sun again.
It was fine, now,
sleep in your bed,
you just had dreams,
of unicorns dancing in your head.
You awoke from trauma, again,
and gave the prize to the guardian,
the demon wanted shoes in the backseat.
I saw the whole thing,
through my glove-box,
and giggled a little to myself.
I can see you....
A whisper came,
through the Tom Waits phonograph record,
and we new that this wasn’t a long-term affair.
The frog on the ceiling,
usually comes down after awhile,
with her accessories.
I could say more for fear of offense,
but the dragon just woke up,
his head under the fence.
*This picture was taken from the film pictures of the Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus....
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