One day at a food shop,
I met a man selling a poodle,
For money he wanted to swap,
But I really wanted some strudel.
“Got any strudel?” asked I.
“For that’s how I’ll spend my money.”
“No strudel here!” said the guy.
He seemed to find it quite funny.
“We’ve got some lovely dogs,
I’ll give you a very fine price.”
“I’d rather have some olympian bull frogs”
The man blinked rapidly thrice.
The man seemed exceptionally arrogant,
And his manner was strangely amused.
He wasn’t what I would call pumped,
Great contempt he noticeably oozed.
Like others, he thought I was odd,
Some say I’m a bit scary.
Still he gave me a courteous nod,
As if he thought I was plenty extraordinary.
So in search of my goal I departed,
But before the food shop could I leave,
The man came running full-hearted,
“I can help you I believe.”
“Shoes, strudel, you shall find.
Frames, olympian bull frogs, you can get.
You must now open your mind,
And get down to New York Market.
So to New York Market I decided to go,
In search of the strudel I craved.
The winds it did eerily blow.
But I felt that the day could be saved.
There were stalls selling bears,
Tights in many shades.
There were even stalls selling method of least cares
People were scattered from many trades.
I was greeted by a peculiar lady,
She seemed to be rather scary
I couldn’t help thinking she might be quite shady.
I wondered if she was all bloody mary.
Before I could open my mouth,
She shouted, “For you, I have some strudels!”
I headed towards her, to the south,
Past some frames and noodles.
“But how did you know?” I asked,
“Do you want them or not?” she did say.
Silently, the strudel she passed.
Then vanished before I could pay.
As I walked away I hard a crackle
Or was it, perhaps, a hushed cackle?
by Crimson Quintessence
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