The Dzmc Apocrypha 18

'twas on a
morning, cold and
wet, though raindrops had
not started yet, i got the
thought to

eat, then
cook a cherry pie. i was
not in the lions' den for
more than three, but
maybe ten hours at
the most, in which my mangy
host ate all my sneakers and one leather
shoe. perhaps he meant to
eat me too, but i was smart and
lit a
lantern, then left in
record time. it's not as
though i were usda prime, more
like scrap, but not
scrap metal. i guess what
you get'll have to

do in a pinch of an inch where
inching's not allowed. death, no
wait, let's not get drastic or
spastic or lose the elastic in our
undies in a bundle. ok, sniffles,
be not proud. that's all i'm allowed to
say for the record, but not
the cd. if you ask me, that's
plenty so say, so now i shall try,
like a regular guy,
to scare myself away