Madame Maxine had a rough day
for things didn’t go her way.
Forty winks she needed most
in her slumber by the post.

In her thoughts appeared a plan
to liquidate that abusive clan.
They wrecked her expensive weaponry
and called her studies bad alchemy.

Then appeared her dead husband, Alonzo
wearing his cherished pants and poncho.
“Don’t forget to throw them in the cartels
and give them your exploding parcels!”


The sun’s rays touched her lids,
waking her up in a pillow of beads.
A smug smile played on her lips
while her plan is up for keeps.

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