William Wellington wore white wherever he went. William was albino and only accepted an achromatic world. He had crazy conceptions, often offending people in public, perplexing them, threatening to take their colored clothes, babbling about burning blue things—always refusing rational reasons.

Lost one day, looking like a living piece of pinkish chalk, he chatted to ten invisible Iguanas in a park. People gathered and gawked.

Standing still, sporting a sullen stare, he sunk into schizophrenia as though the lawn was liquid within his hairbrained head. He suddenly started screaming stories.

“Mary married many men
like she was on a merry-go-round
with husbands as horses…
She rode out abuse and affairs
losing love with every pull on her hair
both legs leaking blood in the snare…”

William Wailed.

The crowd only heard hellish, neck noosed non-sense,
He described madness much too dense,
William went on without food or water,
Erasing each Iguana in pure poems of slaughter.