A jabberwocky lived
in a special pool of mud
oblivious like the pollen-laden bee,
it sat on its eminent seat
gibbered jabbered like a jobber
on a stool
for those that didn’t listen,
his vizier flytrap snapped heads
of those who’d rebuke
like a frog tongue grabbed
its meals airborne
the jabberwocky’s mouth
gobbled tempestuous storms
where it’d munch them like cereal
crackling in a bowl
spitting them out in a whirlpool
of zones, his raiders were a line
of cards with spears, soldiering
down dozens of doe-eyed deer
it owned a river of heads
he’d guillotined, the king too
lay like a noble-shorn statue
bobbing his head like an obedient
fool
the city brayed in bunches of valour,
the jabberwocky ate them like berries
on a platter
until none remained but his hunger-
driven flytrap that ate the jabberwocky
like nothing else mattered
but hunger is a power that has
never known to die, the birds of night
have learnt the different sounds
of what makes up a cry
whether a wolf, dog or fox,
the city keeps releasing a new
animal from their inexhaustible box.