Al's Next Gig: Poet

Thanks, Gator, I'll never feel about poetry the same:

Sir Al (its just a matter of time):

One thin September soon
A floating continent disappears
In midnight sun

Vapors rise as
Fever settles on an acid sea
Neptune’s bones dissolve

Snow glides from the mountain
Ice fathers floods for a season
A hard rain comes quickly

Then dirt is parched
Kindling is placed in the forest
For the lightning’s celebration

Unknown creatures
Take their leave, unmourned
Horsemen ready their stirrups

Passion seeks heroes and friends
The bell of the city
On the hill is rung

The shepherd cries
The hour of choosing has arrived
Here are your tools

Whoa, that's deep. Like you know, waders deep. Grand Canyon deep. I need a hot fudge brownie deep. And some Cheetos. Brownies and Cheetos. Whoa, that's funny. No, I mean it. Al's deep. Ya know what I'm saying? Al's the bomb.