poem: searching and scratching inside of my skull

searching and scratching inside of my skull
what can I conjure that wouldn’t be dull?
rhymes of the kind with one syllable
these are my days, whether high or way low

sketch: johnny sweetlips

crude colour sketch of a human skull banded with saturated colour

sketch: take me to the promised land

crude mono sketch of a turbaned woman looking calmly into a crystal ball to find a skeletal reflection there

sketch: grey farm of the reawakened priesthood

crude mono sketch of a farm, with a skull in the sky, and several skeleton folk blessing other skeleton folk outside a barn

sketch: the pit trap in room six

crude mono sketch of a dungeon pit trap, sprung; impaled upon it are a human ribcage and a skull, staring sardonically — and perhaps accusingly — at the viewer, and labelled as such

sketch: the dead adventurers in room two

crude mono sketch of a forgotten dungeon corner, full of bones, ruined gear, and rats, labelled as such