Free at Halloween
The house was haunted, so they said
We decided to investigate
We called ourselves 'The walking dead'
Once a rock band, but of late--
They'd surely passed their use-by date
The girl was demonized, they thought
She lived alone, down in the cellar
Her head would swivel quite a lot
Which made it rather hard to tell her--
That Linda Blair was far more stellar
We headed down the creaking stairs
Drawn by a hellish ululation
And tip-toed past discarded wares
There was a foul emanation
We'd stumbled on a freak creation
A succubus of rot and stench
Was writhing in a bowl of goo
A veritable ubermensch
Electrified by you-know-who
For reasons that we wish we knew
The door slammed shut, the floorboards creaked
The candles caught a wind and sputtered.
We shuddered at the ooze that leaked
From the walls; and a deep voice uttered
"Break fast with me; your toast...is buttered"
We screamed, and screamed, and screamed again
The stone walls echoed a reply
"A chaaaain a chaaain a chaain a chain..."
A funky rap groove we could not deny
We'd heard before, who was it by?
Contributors: | Nym, Francine, N, F, Beefy, P, Dassn't Say, Kansas Sam, spengler. |
Poem finished: | 2nd August 2003. |