Mr. Abebika Kratoponoko Prizzikalo Kattefello Ablegorabalus Poem by ed purchla

There once was a man who wrote limericks
Whose knack for nonsense was prolific
Yet 'fore his epiphany
Gaining fame parrot-painting
His move to landscapes was deliberate.

Searching for scenery the world over
Neurology's exacted and branded loner
Kept 'The Demon' a secret
For in seizure explicit
They'd have locked him up 'fore he got closer.

Now as his faculties were declining
And 'The Morbids' ever undermining
Painting briefly laid aside
An absurd life to abide
Returning him to his earlier writing.

Cutting his teeth on Lord Stanley's kin
Stirring Knowsley Hall to stitches therein
'Neath chandeliers a'lighting
Magnum opus inditing
'A Book of Nonsense' ripe for the tellin.'

From thereon his writing sparked mirth, split sides,
Outwardly merrymaking, riding the tides
Inmost, an imposter, safe,
Lone, eluding Oscar's fate—
Death by a thousand Victorian knives.