He can't be true, since it's Simple Scythe-man, returned anew…and why do all these pies--draw so many flies? Pattycake, pattycake, mother G.

Pieman Steve
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By MikeyThe wagon arrives at vesper stroke of First Frost's Eve
Villages around turn out for rambling Pieman Steve
On log festbenches and tables long
Generations old and crack'd
Set up by farm and townsmen strong
Pieman Steve's sweet pies are ready rack'd
Not so thin and not so tall
Steve bids one and all
Got my sweet pies for you--all fill'd with cherries
Got my sweet pies for you--all fill'd with berries
Where're all your children- high and low
The Pieman, Pieman
Pieman Steve's got'em in tow
He bounces among them, balancing a load of wares on one broadly meated arm
The other dealing out the sweet saucy pies with singular charm
The little ones jump and scream
For Pieman Steve's lovely cobblers and cream
It's the gleeful twinkle of his eyes apeel
With beckoning warmth the gobbling children feel
But our man's about forces above mortal reward
Pieman Steve's markin' up his scoring board
With seedy berry juice redmarks cross'd
Four marker strokes, another wee soul's the cost
His sweet demand is cloud high
To all who sample taste and try
For slicing into a Pieman Steve's wafting kidney
Might fetch an aromatic wisp of lost little Sidney
Pieman Steve, he's serving them their own
In a pie or pasty sewn (don't look too close on that bone)
Got my sweet pies for you--all fill'd with cherries
Got my meat pies for you--all fill'd with marys and terrys
Where're all your children- high and low
The Pieman, Pieman
'Tis where the loveliest children go

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May 31, 2002
Mike M. West
Dedicated to my friend Tom H Knockoff with a shout out to the fanstastic C J Dennis, Laura, Australia and Norman Dubie (and Mother Goose, baby, the grimmest)