The Gnomes of Stuff

I posted another little poem to the Somewhat Secret Secret Society forum. I think the society created for the show I attended is doomed to die. The delay after the show before the Gnomes of Stuff society was enabled has probably discouraged the members that tried to join up.

Be that as it may, I still enjoyed writing a poem for this probably short-lived somewhat secret society.

The Gnomes of Stuff

'Tis a time of arcane omen;
Show the shadow of the gnomon,
Made by moonlight, known by no man
Living life in light of day.

Keep the kernel of our knowledge
Only in our occult college;
Learn the lore that we acknowledge,
Source of stuff and weird and way.

Gnostic gnomes, we feed the fire
Of the ego's inner liar,
Preaching puzzles to the choir,
Foisting fables to the buyer,
Caching cash till we retire.
So, to seek your soul's desire
Take a ticket; read the flyer;
For our future you must pay.

Buy our blarney; crave our chorus;
Cast your credit cards before us;
Tell the tax-man to ignore us;
Life's not long so don't delay...
Gnomes will nail you should you stray.