The Green Stranger At The Corn

One day at a pie shop,

I met a man selling buns,

For money, he wanted to swap,

But I really wanted some handguns.

"Got any handguns?" asked I.

"For that's how I'll spend my money."

"No handguns here!" said the guy.

He seemed to find it quite funny.

"We've got some lovely shoes,

I'll give you a very fine price."

"I'd rather have some hairdos."

The man blinked rapidly thrice.

The man seemed exceptionally merry,

And his manner was strangely amused.

He wasn't what I would call contemporary,

The great disdain he noticeably oozed.

Like others, he thought I was odd,

Some say I'm a bit green.

Still, he gave me a courteous nod,

As if he thought I was plenty lean.

So in search of my goal I departed,

But before the pie shop could I leave,

The man came running full-hearted,

"I can help you I believe."

"Buns, handguns, you shall find.

Shoes, hairdos, you can get.

You must now open your mind,

And get down to The Corn Market.

So to The Corn Market, I decided to go,

In search of the handguns I craved.

The winds it did eerily blow.

But I felt that the day could be saved.

There were stalls selling apples,

Shirts in many shades.

There were even stalls selling Apelles

People were scattered from many trades

I was greeted by a peculiar lady,

She seemed to be rather green

I couldn't help thinking she might be quite shady.

I wondered if she was at all lean.

Before I could open my mouth,

She shouted, "For you, I have some handguns!"

I headed towards her, to the south,

Past some shoes and buns.

"But how did you know?" I asked,

"Do you want them or not?" she did say.

Silently, the handguns she passed.

Then vanished before I could pay.

As I walked away I heard a crackle

Or was it, perhaps, really crackle?