Crane in the Splendour Spleen

All aboard The Hair Train. Herr, Hare and Her, its a triptych of coaches and if you are up for one hell of a hairy trip, then enter the Hair Chamber. Exclusive only to HERR, HARE & HER

HERR: Trooper up a trope to death and you might just get a T-rope like tea & rope. Veteran Herr cannot swallow the aroma. A grey gem of a movie is Roma. So white, Herr cannot blackout. So black, Herr cannot cream off. Hundred ad thirty-five minutes and still no white out: “Is Herr an anejaculate or is he all black?” Black moods ’cause the Queen’s Tongue is Majesty is his nation. Is Herr ‘racist?’ Does Herr ‘race east’ till he vroom vrooms into a land where the Queen’s Tongue does not hold sway? Tongue speaks words and words cut deeper than swords so why does Herr prefer a katana? Samurai are noble so why is Herr enamored with ronin? A wave man, Herr wants to ride the wave, bring forth the wave and drown people in his wave? Why does Herr want to popular, popular like The Great Wave off Kanagawa?

TRENCHCOAT 1: Great. Now wave goodbye to that coat, Greatcoat.

TRENCHCOAT 2: The Watch is over so begone, Watchcoat.

TRENCHCOAT 3: The sheep has sunk so stop dreaming about it, Android.

TRENCHCOAT 4: Wake up to reality. You are G.H. Cyberpunk is G.H. Androids and Electric sheep are G.H. Its sci-fi that is now vogue. Its Misery that is now vogue. Its Genesis of Misery that is the talk of the town.

“Genesis of misery,” declares the Android, “my misery is my inability to die but why? Tell me Hare, WHY. CAN. I. NOT. DYE?”