All Aboard To Piperburg

Aye, said the cloying pirate
who smelled like cinders or
christmas mints.

Cylinder.
Cylinder.
Cold-tab.

There are our favorite flavors.
(Sand-Snipe!)
(Imagined nutmeg!)

Sand-towel.
Head-garb.

Aliza with a bright shawl
Midnight Rose in the garden
brandishing a duckhammer
and swearing in Polish

Snitches running the alleys
these days with pipers and
strollers and boobs
spilling out their pockets.
Christmas.