Ask The Bugs; They'll Tell You
They Said:
“Well, we’ve been speaking with the moon.
She told us to ask you a question…
He wants to know if you’re coming home soon.
Additionally, we have a suggestion——
She’d like to show you something you’ve never seen before.
She’s in her spot and has meticulously marked and set the stage——
Hark! Hence draws desirous drippings; she adds without rancour
That you already know who burnt down the house with sage.”
Thus, on her in the clearing I fixed my attention,
And all my paranoia withdrew in abstention.
And I remembered the homily by Fr. Edward Burch,
Who, one Thursday afternoon, said to the Church
That anytime he asked God would take him to Fátima.
And like the aliens took Black Herman away to Africa
I was thence whisked yonder from out the grove——
Goodbye, dark night!
Goodbye, greasied stove!
Goodbye, stars!
Goodbye, bugs!
Goodbye, cows!
Goodbye, halves of hugs
And half a house!
I landed then far undergound inside The Cave,
Where Diotima twerked on Socrates——dubious rave.