Tollund Man Attempt 1

It was him again Victor Hawking in Edge City

bound to take the bus and not a jitney

after shopping, out the door walking, the outside air, for the old gray mare went wafting,

in store was his pareidolia again which went dropping

There he was, eyes pinned upon the lot on the series of random cracks

but you know him, his pareidolia fandom had a knack

unleashing his artistic life hack. his life for one second got off track

You can say his mind for the face “broke the chair’

The way his grind was with “less than grace”, was “stoked so clear”.

but on the ground the “host” “laid bare”.

“Cold” might’ve been part of his plan

The bold fight of him pulled out his cam

Sold was his eyes on the pavement’s land

On hold for the guy was the face of Tollund Man

“Cold might’ve been his artistic stance

Bold became the way of his artistic lance

Even though it wasn’t his only chance

he was moved by his pareidolia trance

as a steadfast tin soldier with chainmail

his cam’s entrance, hailed from the left side of his brain, “not being as frail”,

and his artistic anchor against the wind kept him from being “wind sailed”

On the ground he threw the picture taking pneumatic nail

his artistic urge which surged again was out on bail

He smiled

It had been a while

Off the “guard railed edge city’s peninsula”, he put his feet into “the main drag’s street”

his shopping was complete.

again his loaded bags were bound for the bus

again the man in rags was homebound against the traffic’s rush

- AD

- 3/1/24

- 11:55am

Tollund Man