HALLOWEEN POETRY- PUMPKIN MAN
My sword is long-
sharp with steel.
I live to cut-
it's what I feel.
Kneel before me-
an offering nice.
Through the neck-
I begin to slice-
juices running-
like drink from can-
slicing the veins
of a pumpkin man.
Lips on tap-
like slurping beer-
keeps me drunk-
until next year.
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