R.I.P.

That Rip Van Winkle woke and went 
   Back home is popularly known,
But how so died the idle gent
   Is curiously left alone.

I'll tell you this: To take a nap
   Into the hills he took a walk.
He ne'er walk'd back and ne'er did hap
   With any kin again to talk.

Within the hills his corpse was found,
   The elder's body lately dead,
Lying upon the dewy ground,
   A pumpkin where'd have been his head.

O.O

A Runcible Round

The murderous Kankers went off in a Sieve
   To cross the Bloody Sea;   
And all of their friends cried, "Happy dead ends!"
   Maliciously nice as could be,
   Their mouths full of moldy Brie.  

The night was bright with yellow light;
   A lightning storm arose.
The Kankers flew a metal kite
   That looked like a boogery nose.
The Bloody Sea delighted to bite
   A rain of torrible crows.

The Sieve was downed; the Kankers were drowned;
   Their bodies washed ashore
   Where they had sailed for.
Their smiling faces looked up from the ground 
   On the hills of the Chankly Bore,
   And sang this runcible round:——

"A bat and a rat and a cat
Convened for a quatical chat:
  They plotted a killing——
  A murder most chilling——
Of bumps in the night that go SPLAT!"

O.O

With a Ballpoint Pen

He kills for vicious thrills again,
And violates the pretty pink,
As always, with a ballpoint pen.

This evilest of evil men
Begins the process with a wink.
He kills for vicious thrills again.

He ties a tipsy perfect 10
He’s going soon to fill with ink,
As always, with a ballpoint pen.

He violates the safe-word, “when,”
And all the while he doesn’t blink.
He kills for vicious thrills again.

He satiates his wicked yen,
And then records the brutal kink,
As always, with a ballpoint pen.

Who the man is and where he’s been
His victims never mind to think.
He kills for vicious thrills again,
As always, with a ballpoint pen.

O.O