Busy again, tonight, doing the work I need to do so I can screw around in Eureka for Homecoming. Sooooooo…here’s some poetry. They’re even in season.

“FALL’S DECAY: a haiku”
Grimy chalk draws drab
Autumnal scenes of pumpkins
Left to rot outside.

I walk through the graveyard,
Past gray-faced tomb stones.
I stroll through the graveyard,
Over the buried bones.
I skip through the graveyard,
But can’t break the somber tone.
I creep through the graveyard,
Did I just hear a groan?
I walk quickly through the graveyard,
By myself but not alone.
I run from the graveyard . . .

Bedtime comith, bedtime gone
glass of water drunken, glass of water gone
mother wished pleasant dreams, mother gone
the digital clock ticks and tocks
the coming dawn
and I can’t sleep

Tucked in sans bedtime story
the night light futilely fights
the shadows’ monopoly
my protective covers can’t quite
shield the chill rising through me
and I can’t sleep

Because HE is under THERE
the reason why
I ask for a glass of water
or an extra lullaby
the reason why
I don’t dare dangle my feet
past bead’s edge
the reason why
I can’t sleep

I hear his whispers
feel the reverberations of his groans
I stifle a moan and wait
clutching blanket over head
I hear, I feel HIM
come out from under the bed
and (of course) I can’t sleep

HIS fetid breath, only inches away
under the blanket I pray to stay
but I pull off the fabric made fortitude
is it bravery or morbid curiosity?
either case, I hazard a chance
I take a glance
I swear I’ll never sleep!

Cloven feet hold up a furry frame
ghoulish proportions, grotesque symmetry
clad in the deepest midnight black
hairy head toped in horrid horns
on top of that, a tall top hat
wide eyes, glowing coals
HE lets loose a throaty growl
and nightmare claws reach
closer . . .
closer . . .
closer . . .

I yell to the fiend
and he stops short
uncomfortably he stares at the ground
he mutters an apology
and then out the window without a sound
never again, another peep

What can I say, a boy’s gotta sleep.