The devil’s in the detail,
Your cousin’s in the club,
She’s been boozing since yesterday - 
Aye, there’s the rub.

Look in the mirror
Inspect the back of your mind
Microscopically construct another time:
an armed robbery —
you dirty, rotten swine.
sip whiskey, look around, frown.

what could it be?
this city of the bee?
Let’s go have ourselves a look-see.

He lost his mind at the Necromancer’s ball
so what do you think he’ll see?
A dark, empty hall?
He’s hellish tallish, like me.