Mools of woosta
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.