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here is little Effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread
when judgment day comes
God will find six crumbs
  
stooping by the coffinlid
waiting for something to rise
as the other somethings did-
you imagine his surprise
  
bellowing through the general noise
Where is Effie who was dead?
-to God in a tiny voice,
i am may the first crumb said
  
whereupon its fellow five
crumbs chuckled as if they were alive
and number two took up the song
might i'm called and did no wrong
  
cried the third crumb, i am should
and this is my little sister could
with our big brother who is would
don't punish us for we were good;
  
and the last crumb with some shame
whispered unto God, my name
is must and with the others i've
been Effie who isn't alive
  
just imagine it I say
God amid a monstrous din
watch your step and follow me
stooping by Effie's little, in
  
(want a match or can you see?)
which the six subjective crumbs
twitch like mutilated thumbs;
picture His peering biggest whey
  
coloured face on which a frown
puzzles, but I know the way-
(nervously Whose eyes approve
the blessed while His ears are crammed
  
with the strenuous music of
the innumerable capering damned)
-staring wildly up and down
the here we are now judgment day
  
cross the threshold have no dread
lift the sheet back in this way
here is little Effie's head
whose brains are made of gingerbread

Added: 19 Aug 2001 | Last Read: 8 May 2024 9:30 AM | Viewed: 11201 times

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