Pumpkins are carved-
the wounds are all fresh.
Halloween is coming-
there are bumps on my flesh-
ghoulies and goblins-
to race through the street-
decapitated heads
will fall down to feet.
The moon will be bleeding-
drenching crimson on sky-
clouds making shapes-
like monsters that fly-
it's all Hallows eve-
who could want more?
When Thanksgiving comes
we'll have plates full of gore.
Then Christmas time hits
like a hammer on head.
Santa claws cutting-
flesh living and dead-
then fill up the chalice
as we rock New Years Eve-
let go of the malice
like a drunken spewed heave.
The time now has come
as another year passed-
all of us sicko's-
we had such a blast.
It's months upon months
of new days and starts-
and leftovers simmering
to warm stomachs and hearts.
No comments:
Post a Comment