Saturday, October 31, 2009


Morning passes for afternoon
And as the moon becomes a haze we wake
From strange sides of the bed.
The world feels brighter from below
And all of white is orange instead.
From our skin in our cloths we can't shake
The feeling more will happen; soon.

Crunchy leaves bunched in piles
Alite in flight of chase of minivans
Familiar miles down the streets.
Choruses of four-foot Deaths
Murder peace with four-foot breaths
Demanding handy candy treats
(Lest The Damned have other plans)
As each coy pumpkin squats and smiles.

Bigger figures mingle,
Fingers closed on glasses or to asses curled
And the evening passes for another world
Where no one is single.

And you and I meet in disguise.
At least, it could be you. And me.
Tomorrow we will pay the price
If the sun's alive
And we survive
But right now, this is very nice.
I take you where no one can see
But all the trees are full of eyes.

Orange in night light from the moon
We know that more will happen; soon.