Allow me to introduce myself, I am the Lion that’s cowardly.
A **** in boots of the sorts, crippled with anxiety.

At this very moment, I am feeling sublime.
For I am laying face-up in a poppy field, ****** out of my mind.

The fog is starting to clear, it's all coming back to me now.
What was I thinking? What, when, why, how!?

It all started when I met a girl named Dorothy and her dog Toto,
accompanied by a tin guy with no heart and a brain dead scarecrow

She said that a wizard in Oz can put some courage in me.
All I need to do was to follow them to the Emerald City.

Some may call it a lack of better judgment, but I followed her lead,
skipping down a yellow brick road toward my destiny.

I immediately regretted it, but I was too scared to go back.
So I kept on following her regardless of my anxiety attack.

Now it could just be me...
but all things terrifying seem to follow Dorothy.

She is being stalked by a witch, traveling on a broom by air.
Her companions are flying demon monkeys, out of my worst nightmare.

I think that Dorothy may also be insane.
She keeps blabbering about a place called Kansas again and again.
I'm almost certain this place does not exist, she is talking crazy.
Maybe she should ask the wizard for a pill that will cure her insanity.

I think I'll just lie here in the poppies, pretending to be high.
Maybe they'll leave me here, I can only hope they pass me by.

Ill go back to my forest, back to my cowardly ways,
back to being scared of my shadow, back to better days.

A Scarecrow in a field?
How typically cliché!
Just hanging around
scaring crows all day?!

But this is my life
it is what I become.
adapted to my environment
comfortably numb.

Perched on these poles
like a broken Christ,
no thoughts of my own
to ponder at night.

If I only had a brain
to keep me company!
An imagination to use
to create a fantasy!

I'd calculate equations
while protecting the harvest.
An intellectual of knowledge,
a scholar of the smartest.

A critical thinker,
yes that's what I said!
With scientific theories
dancing in my head!

What...??!!

Do my eyes deceive?
Who is this girl...
approaching me...???

She has a basket in her hand;
skipping on a street
There is a tiny brown dog
following her feet...

Look at her shoes!!..They are sparkly red!
What could she possibly want
from a scarecrow that's brain-dead...?

To Be Continued...

Not an amulet, an off white vertebrae; bone.
Brass wire, a loop at one end.
It bends as to make sure this will fit.

A gauge that measures mesmerization,
And we both must get along, but
Not because we're not tough enough:
Most of us aren't soft right yet.

So many stiffs, folly after folly.
The whole carful of loose cadavers,
Dangling, their feet hang with wet snow
And carnage,

Not even musk deer pop up,
They've all gone. Roosting in a parabol,
With X's sprayed to their groins.
Burning pop couples

Doing it like laboratory mice. Capybaras
Hiss, my own burnt blood is also
Flocculating.

Turn the cup upside down and
See the fire's balmy lachrymal opaque
Moss while it does not drip.

This is the story of man you asked me about;
Devoid of a muzzle, fur onto his chest; coarse
Hair in a garland.

It is the God of a tool that buzzes into the night.
A plateau for this most sensible study.
We feel another coming.

And when you awoke, your larval tongue
My eye mush, a song of verse and melancholy.
This half list of greatness, a tally we both wish to see.