A Halloween sans masks or drinks,
Only ocular migraines when the phone rings.
Bar on the refrigerator, empty balloons
Tied to the door. It is an ordinary Saturday.
Dizzy ordinary, truly hungry.
I have never seen the face of a party.
It has been stuffed in the dark, painted
Neon-orange for jack-o-lantern effect.
Wide eyes! Orange mouths, shouting
Into the darkness of the sick cave.
Then out comes a brilliant cockatoo.
I pick up the carved battering stick.
Take aim at the paper mâché—
and out comes you, you, you.
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