slick will

I hearkened wambly sound

arrive from all around

this wrongly gloried town.

incensed, I combed to kill …

and stalked a slick will-

quite-o’-the-phantom-wisp … 

and that to no avail.

and like the adaged Holy Grail, 

it just would not be found;

so I did not persist.

in truth, while I returned

the better to regain

overt transmundane

my backyard barbecue,

alas! the dogs came badly burned …

to purely blackened crisp,

to stratospheric residue.