Here’s an ekphrastic poem based on a Dürer print (see details here)
[hozbreak]
Version 1

I was minding my business in Pandamonium

(1) Death
If there’s one thing I can’t stand
it’s single issue fanatics of any kind
especially religious fundamentalists.
The barmy ones believe it’s good to do themselves in,
killing loads of innocent souls on the way,
these are unbelievers of course, expendable.
Well, I can’t handle the extra workload.
For a start it’s messy trying to find their souls
among the litter of body parts,
especially when they struggle, claim their time hasn’t come.
So today I am going to nobble the chief loonie
as he passes through the valley of death dressed as a knight.
The Devil is going to be there too, to scare his horse so he falls off.
Then we will stamp on him, send him back to his Maker.

(2) The Devil
So there I was on a beach near Pandemonium
warming myself by the burning sea when who turns up?
Non other than that weedy creep Death.
He said he needed some help in the valley of death
and he was prepared to pay me well. I tried to get
a weekend pass back to heaven, but he wasn’t falling for that.
He told me to dress up like a goat with cloven hooves
so I’ve had to get my Devil suit out of hock at the pawnbroker’s.
That was only a couple of hours ago. It seems some religious nut
is expected to ride through the valley on a horse.
He said I’d got to to stamp about and roar like the devil
so the horse would bolt and throw the Knight.
What actually happened was the fanatic had a dog,
an Irish wolf hound big as a small horse.
The bastard animal bit me and pulled off my goats mask.
Then talk of the devil, Death appeared on the scene.

(3) The Knight
This world is going to the dogs. It’s full of infidels,
unbelievers who refuse to follow the Word,
my Word given to me on an acid trip by a power
far mightier than me. It is written that unbelievers
should be eliminated now—waiting for the Rapture
means waiting too long. I have cohorts prepared
to give themselves to the task of cleansing this world.
Today I was leading a march through death valley
followed by a dozen new conscripts
in need of hardening by exposure to the dark forces
that inhabit the place. But then that idiot the Devil
turned up, under contract I shouldn’t doubt, craven
git that he is, always after a fast buck. Anyway,
there he stood, dressed like a goat, stamping and snorting,
so I set Gnash, my Irish Wolfhound, on him. Gnash bit his arse
and hoicked off his stupid goat outfit. Then that other fool
Death appeared, minus nose and lips, blocking my way
on a puny horse wafting a skull and egg timer in my face.
What’s occurring guys I asked. Why don’t you both bugger off
or else I’ll report you to the boss. He’s my friend.

Version 2

I was minding my business in Pandamonium

(1) Death
This is a bum job, low pay, no perks, too much overtime.
So if there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s single issue fanatics,
especially religious fundamentalists. Can’t they see
I’ve already got too much to do, what with wars and epidemics.
The barmy sods believe in blowing themselves up,
killing loads of innocents on the way. Unbelievers, expendable.
Well, I can’t handle the extra workload. For a start it’s messy
trying to find their souls among the litter of body parts,
especially when they struggle, claim their time hasn’t come.
I’d go on strike, but everyone would think that was a great idea.
So instead I’m going to nobble the chief loonie as he passes
through the valley of death dressed as a knight.
I’ve paid the Devil to be there too, to scare his horse so he falls off.
Then we will stamp on him, send him back to his Maker.

(2) The Devil
There I was relaxing on a beach near Pandemonium
warming myself by the burning sea when who turns up?
Non other than that weedy creep Death. He’s always moaning.
He said he needed some help in the valley of death
and was prepared to pay me well. I tried to get a weekend pass
back to heaven, but he wasn’t falling for that. Stingy beggar.
He told me to dress up like a goat with cloven hooves
so I’ve had to get my Devil suit out of hock at the pawnbroker’s.
That was only a couple of hours ago. It seems some religious nut
is expected to ride through the valley on a horse.
He said I’d got to stamp about and roar like the devil
so the horse would bolt and throw the lunatic Knight.
What actually happened was the lunatic had a dog,
an Irish wolf hound big as a small horse.
The bastard animal bit me and pulled off my goats mask.
Then, talk of the devil, Death appeared on the scene.

(3) The Knight
The world is going to the dogs don’t you know.
It’s full of unbelievers who refuse to follow the Word,
my Word given to me on an acid trip by a power
far mightier than me. It is written that unbelievers
should be eliminated now—waiting for the Rapture
means waiting too long. I run the Church of Salvation,
have my own TV channel, and online merchandising store.
I have real power. My thousands of cohorts are prepared
to give themselves to the task of cleansing this world.
Today I was leading a march through death valley
followed by a dozen new conscripts in need of hardening
by exposure to the dark forces that inhabit the place.
But then that idiot the Devil turned up, craven git,
probably under contract. He’s always after a fast buck. Anyway,
there he stood, dressed like a goat, stamping and snorting,
so I set Gnash, my Irish Wolfhound, on him. Gnash bit his arse
and hoicked off his stupid goat outfit. Then that other fool
Death appeared, minus nose and lips, blocking my way
on a puny horse waving a skull and egg timer in my face.
What’s occurring guys I asked. Why don’t you both bugger off
or else I’ll report you to the boss. He’s my friend.