Strange, Yes, But Stranger Still by Moxy Casimir

 nothing was said, nothing overheard

what came to pass was a passing bird

my foot-bones rolled like shaken dice

I knew what I held I wouldn’t hold twice

strange, yes, but stranger still…


saint wields a strimmer instead of a sword

and a chainsaw strung with the teeth of her lord

she is mighty and shouty in her ministry

she levelled the grass and then she flattened me

strange, yes, but stranger still…


in forty awful mouthfuls and a vicious chewing spree

there were logs stacked in a clearing and not the knowledge tree

and she lit the logs with comets much too far away to catch

and the out-of-arm’s-reach flicker of the holy safety match

strange, yes, that is strange