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Wocky for Burroughs
Twas Burroughs in the slitted Tombs
Did roll and grumble, lay awake
All flimsy were the bedsheets
And the Tombs wrath out, came
Beware the Dilaudid shot, my son
The jaws that bite the claws that catch
Beware the narc, narc's heard and shun
the carnivorous Morphine batch
He took his worde horde sword in hand
Long time the phantom foe he sought
So rested he by the yage tree
And stood awhile in thought
And as in thuggish thought he stood
The Dilaudid shot with spoon aflame
Came whiffling through the grudging syringe
And burbled as it came
One two! One two! And through and through
The word horde tore through the sack
He left there dead
But in his head
Went triumphant back
"And has thou taken the Dilaudid shot
Gone in thy arms my noddish boy
Oh don't pass away Burroughs away"
He wrote not in his joy
Twas Burroughs in the slitted Tombs
Did roll and grumble, lay awake
All flimsy were the bedsheets
And the Tombs wrath out, came
