An abandoned mutt
sits under a flickering streetlight
in the blowing snow
of January.

His white fur
blends effortlessly
with the blizzard.

The glow
of his sad eyes
the only beacon
to alert his presence.

Like a lighthouse,
he sweeps his head
from left to right
as if calling
to the ocean
to return a lost lover.

Except the ships are cars
which pass by him
as ruthlessly as the waves
mocking the forlorn lover
as they wash nothing
on the beach.

I call to him.

His eyes dart
in my direction
and for a split second
the melancholy eyes
are hopeful.

Upon seeing my face,
however,
hope fades

and he returns
to sweeping
left to right

like a lighthouse
searching
for a lost lover.

During the night of late October
Children rule the streets.
They form in mobs and knock on doors
demanding tricks and treats.

One such mob of ghosts and ghouls
was led by Johnny Smith
and what they did that Hallow's Eve
are things you hear in myth.

They ran the streets with iron fists
and toilet paper too.
They also had ten dozen eggs
I swear to you it's true!

The night began with simple pranks
of toilet paper rain
but Johnny Smith was far from done
he had only just began.

Legend says his eyes glowed red
at the stroke of midnight
and he transformed from little boy
to demon on that night.

Now, what happend on Hallow's Eve
in 1992
in the town of Madison
is absolutely true.

How it happened, there is debate
but the story goes:
that Johnny Smith and his mob
broke into Farmer Joe's.

Farmer Joe had lots of money
and was a bitter man.
He'd spend his days on his porch
yelling to leave his land.

Johnny and gang crept up the stairs
to where poor Joe was snoring.
They quickly tied him to his bed
So they could start exploring.

They searched the house top to bottom
trying to find his money.
But all they found were stupid pictures
Johnny wasn't happy.

He went outside to Joe's tool shed
and brought back gasoline.
They poured it around poor Joe's bed
and lit a magazine.

Poor Joe's house went up completely
with Joe still strapped to bed.
The gang ran out very quickly
seeking shelter in the shed.

It is said that too this day
Joe walks around his land
making sure no one comes back
and sets a fire again.

I live vicariously
through anonymity.

The convex mirror
LCD flat-screen
deflates apprehension and
balloons confidence

I jump feet first
through the looking
glass slipper; which
will turn to pumpkin
just before dawn.

I am not Cinderella.

I am just another
Guy Fawkes impersonator
with “V” tattooed
on my heart-strings.

Just another harbinger
like the Plutonian bird
perched upon a pallid bust

sent to whisper:
“nevermore”

I found myself shackled to my seat
from the opening.

They transported me;
Took me to a place
I had never been
and never expected to go.

The opening act was shocking.
I know that I wasn't the only one
because I saw others shocked too.

Between scenes, we were in total darkness,
Forced to listen to Lady Gaga
and the National Anthem.

There were no concessions.

The second act stole my breath.
It felt like drowning
except I wasn't.

I really wanted something to eat though.
It was like torture, but not really.

It was an extraordinary rendition
of the United States.