April 2, 2012
Double Double Toil and Absurdism

Looming moon, quiet cave

Three witches, women like wolves

Stir, stir, more wolfsbane 

More newts and pickled feet

More ill will and nuts

Cackles fill the moonlit cave 

On night-drenched walls, mossy, wet

Shadows move, unlock a chest 

“The secret ingredient! Special! Mine!” 

The women huddle, leering

They cut the flesh, moaning 

They squeeze out its blood maniacally

The potion bubbles, almost finished 

A tablespoon more of sugar and…

“Voila!” “Finished!” “Perfect!” Lemonade.