some poems i wrote

baked bass

a

 bold
   bald

     boy

       baked

         a

          baker's

            dozen
              of
                bass

                  in

                    a 

                      big
                        black

                          bowl

                            of

                              brass

feathers and bones 

Mary Mary quite contrary how does your garden grow

With feathers and bones and deadly tomes if you really want to know