BY JAY WELLER
WHILE DOWN BELOW, THE CITY BURNED
HE SAT UPON HIS TERRACED BERN
WHILE DOWN BELOW, THE CITY BLED
SOFT PEDALS WERE LAID
UPON HIS BED
THROUGH THE SERPENT ALLEY WAYS
THEY SOFTLY CRIED
AS HIS FIDDLE
PLAYED
THE TERRACE HIGH
JASMINE SHRUBBERY
OBSCURED HIM FROM
THE THUGGERY
CHAMPAGNE LIPS
SILKEN ROBES
AND THERE A SPIDER
UPON HIS
NOSE