My daughter snips a femur
from adhesive-backed felt, pelvis
already attached to her short skirt.
Zombie-cheerleaders lurch past.
But, Bob will take first prize again;
green branches enfold him, sprout
from ears and top of head.
The school crossing guard is
Cat-in-the-Hat, and a man in half black/
half white walks two large dogs—
white one on his black side, black
on his white side. I pinch myself;
ouch, I’m awake.
Superwoman works the photo lab;
red cape flutters as she rings me up.
Have a pumpkin donut, pumpkin cookie,
steamy pumpkin cappuccino.
And, have your treats at the ready.
You don’t want lawn furniture
on your roof (again) come morning.
Ann Howells’ work recently appeared in Spillway, Crannog and Lunch Ticket, among others. She edits Illya’s Honey, and last year took it from print to digital: http://www.IllyasHoney.com. Chapbooks are: Black Crow in Flight (Main Street Rag, 2007) & Rosebud Diaries (Willet, 2012). She serves on the board of Dallas Poets Community (501-c-3).
Categories: Monster Mash, Poetry, Themed
Tags: Ann Howells, costumes, e-zine, ezine, Halloween, hyperbole, longing, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, Monster Mash, new, poem, poet, poetry, poets, submit, writing
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