For, sunday faced, with dusters in my glove, Chaste and the chaser, man with the cockshut eye,
I, that time's jacket or the coat of ice
May fail to fasten with a virgin o
In the straight grave
from "When, Like a Running Grave"
I thought we'd start off with a simple one, and get into the more torturously complex material later in the week. You will remember that Crazy Dick used to be a horrible sickly pink color, but I decided to make him red in these pictures because I wanted to play up the rooster connotation. Crazy is in rare form today: his insanity-birds are looking fine, his thighs are as chubby as they were the day he was born, his single eye is squeezed tightly shut, and his hooves are swift. The little bunny carrying his loin-key evades him now, but not for long.
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