Graham's paintings feature blood
And dragons found in dark red mud.
He paints the gore without restraint
In scenes to make the squeamish faint.

Fiendish, saint-destroying beasts
Will cook their foes on racks at feasts.
It riles the unemployed embalmer.
Blacksmiths make the victim's armour

Into salt and pepper cellars.
Furry former sewer-dwellers
Rest on skewers over fires.
Scarecrows made from straw and squires

Stare from where the withered wheat
Conceals the scarecrows' tethered feet.
Wizards battle Beetle cars
That come to life with built-in scars

That can't be seen inside their souls.
They show the sentiments of trolls
In their long antisocial phase.
They like to leak on new driveways.

Some friends of his appreciate
The way his paintings illustrate
Their daily lives in war with Orcs
And leather-wearing evil storks

Who leave small creatures made to fight
And bring defeat to all things right.
Graham's friends will strive to stay
Alive to see another day.

They'd rather have the storm and strife
Than hide in dreams of modern life,
The fantasies to hide the fear,
The families of manic cheer,

A steadfast faith in sleek facades
And folk who only play charades
Instead of speaking words of truth
On storks who bear a new recruit

To fight without integrity
And make their rivals beg to be
Allowed to enter death's domain
Without courgettes inflicting pain.

Graham's aim is not to spread
The truth of life with all its dread.
His goal when he sets out to paint
Is making his aunt Sally faint.