Alongside the hugest wax figure of Christy Clark,
the bucketheaded witch of Westeros,
Stinky, green, and bloated,
Like an old sandwich
But still, I enjoyed it thoroughly.
The wool was warm.
Shockingly, it melted into primordial
ooze, like a sloppy, melting Jeremy Piven,
In the belfry in the church at midnight mass,
“What the hell!” they screamed
And that guy was the hostest with the mostest.