Mools* of woosta
Full with gold watches
Mools of woosta
Full with gold watches
Epigrammatists marching
Through the blue land of milled cotton
Cry me back mother
I’ll pay the black piper
Cry me back mother
I’ll pay the black piper
And tip the bearded lady
Dreaming of my sweet cake shortening
My sweet dumb crumbly cake
In Woosta in the wake
Of the parade.
- Jack Vaughan
A mool is a grave. This poem is loosely about an encounter with a gravedigger. Or graverobber, hard to say. First appeared Sunday, November 17, 2002 on Jack Vaughan's Radio Weblog.
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