The best boy at my wedding, Stefan Rose,
Went boom in the Dust Bowl, nineteen thirty–
But Dolly took my dagger, cut my nose,
Put duct tape on it (but it got dirty)…
The electrical grid went off at noon;
The Gaffer took Stefan down to the room
Where ideas are hatched, like “Go to moon”
(Six kroner I spent on my friend, the groom).
So, packing up the wagon with candles,
I rise from the gloom, and with a great surge
I roller blade into Hell. The handles
On my skateboard freeze, and I feel the urge
To spike my mug of coffee (turned tables!)
With the best limejuice from the bride’s stables.
Phringo's Blog 
A wonderful cryptography. I’m an artifact that still loves a poem with structure, but also one that wakes me at the turn (AB, AB, … CC). I’ll plead for more if I need to. I think this is my favorite of Pab’s Poems for its wordcraft. I confess that I understand the message no better than I understand my life. Best ~Don