Friday The 13th: The Fake Blood and Owl Feather Curse
Ghouls get up, ghosts get going, wraiths of the nights
go wrap yourselves in daytime doings, lost souls set,
Your sighs to soughing in the pines, Piners now mint
Manifestos of maxium woe, Vampirinas dust off
Your tu-tus, dance, dance, and rouge those pallid corpses,
Corpuscles were counting on you to drain away - it’s your day,
Carpe Bitem.
By Yours Truly
Footnote:
Too silly but hey, there are simply not enough Friday the 13th poems celebrating, and asking for a revival of the Australian Ballet’s production of Friday the Thirteenth.
Ghouls get up, ghosts get going, wraiths of the nights go wrap yourselves in daytime doings, lost souls set, Your sighs to soughing in the ...
