Art and Craft 2018: 15

Dennis Moore (Lupins)

A pot of beans is soaking
for next week, poison
leaching its bitter, dry-
brain base microgram
by microgram. The swollen
lenses sink. Not at all
like witches. An honest
toxin, inedibly alkaline.
No dirt god brought
the secret; no folk
hero tamed the bottlebrush
flowers. Pressed, the vicar
would concede caution
and rinsing are virtues.
Where is their ballad? Imagine
a wife stopping Hunger's carriage,
spoon like a blunderbuss,
wringing a day more
from that over-rich git.

after this scape of lupins and the Python "Dennis Moore" sketches