Jockeying through the quad on clockwork camels
swatting at each other's throats with broom handles,
penny rockets marked with eldritch runes
then fired into the cemetary come midnight,
open and unpunished murder on the streets of Kent,
riding into the town square carrying the heads of our enemies,
busking for humbugs with glockenspiels
and the manifolds screams of the damned,
egging pensioners, egging paupers, egging ourselves
with dog eggs, with human eggs, cracking the head
of the form master - his head is an egg,
his skull laden with prizes.
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