Where Have The Lemmings Gone?

Where have all the lemmings gone? Jumping into a shadow of echo madness. Landing on their feet in my poetic opus, of dark aspic and creation. Listening to the clock's pendulum whispering my name. Swinging like an anvil crashing into my pain. But it's, Showtime folks! Crossing the meridian attached to strings. Riding my Pokey into the sunset of my toy's chest. Greeted by the Jack-in-the-box of twilight and Alka-seltzer. Remembering the relish of the leaves mulch and the odor drifting through the screen door. As insomnia rains down, forgetting to call mama