Archive
10/31/09
Holding the Bag
It's Halloween, and I'm out, this frightful night. When the vast horde of goblins, ghosts, and ghouls Ravages, savages my suburban neighborhood,
In intimidating assaults on our porches and doors, Demanding sweets, to sate their blood-sugar addictions, I'll be at the symphony,
Getting my fix of Mahler, Stravinsky, and Bartók, At a safe distance from the sinister goings-on, This crisp, near-full-moon, end-of-October evening.
Oh, don't imagine I haven't learned my lesson. Over the treacherous decades, I've figured out how to scarce myself from the scary,
Avoid the malicious tricks of vicious visitors, Evil spirits disguised to hide their even eviler identities, On their hit-and-run missions to defile our houses
And get away, scot-free, Filling the clear night sky with gossamer abominations, Striking once-a-year fear into our horrified eyes and ears.
But misgivings over my having darkened the windows Cacophonize the already strident, discordant scores Of Gustav, Igor, and Béla.
What if zombies, monsters, vampires, witches, devils Read my dereliction as an invitation to egg and TP me, Leave me holding the empty bag?
10/31/09
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