Poem: The real Halloween

Tuesday, November 7th, 2006

Give us your happy-sad.
We will fashion you echoes:
a man, a woman, a dog or a cat.

Something like this.

Something like that.

Cayenne pepper keeps us away.
Wooden caskets are the things:
third-finger rings, volcanic ash.

Crash the party with your tears of sorrow.

Blood ties you here and now.

categories: broomstick stuff, creative