What solumn countenance would curtain
a joyous explosion of masks, wigs and
gay costumes lifted upon the shoulders
of unicorns, hoisted by green mice with
chattering teeth as the teeming throbbing
wall of ever sharpening claws and whip
tails tightening the knots that bind them
with each living brick?

What strained smile would do honor
to the leaping unicorn, transporting
mere mortals transformed by imagination
relinqueshed of reason and the laws of
man where those who carry no haute
or couture of those most favored swallows
that flap their wings until the day their
frivolity turns it's head on their foolishness?

What mind locked behind lonely doors
would leap ahead of birds shed of tails
and teeth and horns that fly about the
land unabashadedly crossing seas and
rivers cooling the hardened hearts of
men who cannot believe in the fairy tails
of fantasy because what their God decided
was that the poor must always be with us?