Week Three

The next

several weeks

pass in a haze,

a sweet-induced coma,

brought on by days,

of nibbling treats

culled Halloween,

producing–

a loosening

of belts on most jeans.

Hinging on timing,

you might also see,

a partisan race–

to run our country,

a process where candidates

stump & promote,

relevant issues

rockin’ the vote,

–smiling the while

by predescribed rote.

It’s also

quite likely,

you’ll entertain guests,

that come with the season

and must be impressed,

with doo-dads and china,

dragged out each year,

~claptrap~

in bubble wrap

amounting to cheer.

And as time

–advances–

to end of November,

families prepare

a feast to remember–

the instance of stealing

this land

from its natives,

unfair to those there,

but still legislated.

First Week

Second Week

Week 3

4th Down

I whipped

me up

some Giggle Jots

skipped the quip

stirred the pot

rollin’ floor

in sin o’ men

chaffed my batch

dropped in tin

cooked ‘em

‘til they bounced

from pan

into palm

burnt my hand

next time I’ll buy

Oreos

(snicker-free!)

save some dough,

Second Week

Moving along–

to what happens after,

the tricking & treating,

and G-rated laughter–

since when kids,

shut eyelids,

& start sawing logs,

the oldsters,

upholster,

in Halloween togs.

The female among them

will no doubt choose slutty–

–witch clothes

with striped hose,

or maybe a bunny…

‘Made famous by Playboy

decades ago,

She might come

as Nurse!

(dressed as a ho’)

The disguises–

of most guys is

–generally spartan

(I don’t mean the Greeks)

I’m talking the garment,

which might be

the same as–

he wears when at work,

topped with a seasonal

hat and a smirk.

However we do it–

we do like to play…

differing roles,

than those lived each day,

so ponder

the person,

you’d most like to be…

Your close up

is scheduled–

for this Halloween.

First Week

Second Week

Week 3

4th Down

March Hare fools April,

(Hatter mad & turtle quick)

and capricious she, boomerangs

May Days into month next,

showering June with

Gloom Bugs–

–Bigger than Moons–

but Lady-like in spots, too.

Not the bugs celebrating

Independence

from Kings & burning children

well beyond the 4th day of month next–

lightning bugs…

(and fireflies)

spangling skies & beginning a tradition

that opiates a populace with patriotism

and backyard barbeques, besides,

until Days wax to Dogs–

–howling hot and

let out by God knows who,

but probably Golden Retriever Dogs…

As luck would have it, the 9th month

(Laboring perpetual 911 emergency thru photo opps)

––flies by in consummate fashion →→

and when it’s Killing Time,

that’s a blessing.

A straight up blessing.

Primal release that Rocks

it all Over All Hallows,

and All Hallowed, too

> Prissy Hallowed <

everybody knows

sex is standard operating procedure

after mortal loss,

(look it up!)

the door between worlds wide open that 31st day

–giving thanks for this & more!

Parodizing a Last Meal,

Paganizing a Big Deal,

Until January, cold and forlorn,

reminds you just how little there is to

Love without commercial recourse–

–when you March into See’s,

silent as a lamb, but

quick like an Easter Bunny–

to foil hearts.

First Week

It’s autumn–

October–

a big Harvest Moon.

The leaves,

from the trees,

upon the ground strewn.

Carpeting porches,

Sidewalks and streets,

Filled with masked children

Soliciting sweets.

Provided by neighbors

–unless they are foolish,

since unsweetened children

Can often be

ghoulish.

Opting to trick

in absence of treat,

consisting–

of twisting

the Charmin’ in trees.

Or egging

a doorway,

darkened and quiet,

venting frustration,

in albumin riot–

yes, the ways

one can pay

–for skipping tradition,

are bad for resale

and border sedition.

So don’t

be a hero–

on next trip to store,

buy oodles of candy

to keep by your door,

and hand out to kiddies,

attended by Mommy

–who can’t be

reproached,

‘cause Mommy’s a Zombie.

Second Week

Week 3

4th Down

he made me nervous

–the Coors light & pound of candy corn kind of nervous–

and I had to wonder where that was leading

. . .

turning tricks & treats on the corner, next?

I didn’t know

. . .

I just knew I felt like Cindy at 1 a.m.

–my ride a sudden pumpkin,

–my head all cobbed & webby

–my “no place like home” a ticking time bomb of desolation that

creaked my mind open, and

pounded my heart with menacing footfalls, and

aligned closet monster

with under bed monster

. . .

and abed monster, too

–the coalition of me, myself, and I

and

dictionary definition of fucked-up roomies

darting in & out of funhouse glass, and

stalking my err off, and

wielding unconcealed weaponized gavels

(so SWF)

–all of which might have been more tragic

had it not been so thematic

. . .

had it been Yuletide instead

of

Halloween.

If you want readers,

–if you really do–

skip pen & paper,

Like a stone

and kibosh keypunch,

hunt and peck and hunt and peck and

forget every shade of black and white there is, too, or at the very least smudge it–

and hunt and peck and hunt

–a little

employ its outline

&

peck

–at most, and then

immediately dry erase,

creating some double-duty diversion to redirect–say:

Look over there! Is that (a) well-aimed bookend coming for ya?

as an unconscious reader is

>this close<

to sub-text and

write in color!

High-definition color!

Technicolor…ahh… color!

Code that chrome

poem

and

pantone those

prose pair a’ graphs

and

Tem·pur·ify this tittled

text, and

–f*ck ‘em if they call it graffiti, because is it really?

There’s nothing gray about it, and the more true feats involved in an ersatz emoji world–

It’s in Webster’s, now.

–the better.

“emoji”

The more hue·manely–

–best.