May 2014
my wife’s always late
so I wailed: “Hurry up, dear
or it'll be light...
You know, the early ghost
catches the faint-hearted”
“Hang on,” she howled
(I’d died on the rope, you see)
“just my finishing touches
with my mas-scare
and a bit more of my scare spray”
and then she floated out
into the dying room
(we don’t have living rooms, you understand)
looking just *boo-tiful
so I wailed: “Hurry up, dear
or it'll be light...
You know, the early ghost
catches the faint-hearted”
“Hang on,” she howled
(I’d died on the rope, you see)
“just my finishing touches
with my mas-scare
and a bit more of my scare spray”
and then she floated out
into the dying room
(we don’t have living rooms, you understand)
looking just *boo-tiful
2nd poem in a series of poems about ghosts, spirits, ghouls and such...
