Diabolical Appropriation
Ev’ry Halloween,
While I’m getting gory and undead
For just one night,
I always play a little game –
Ever since a teen,
While sat before the mirror, faking dread,
I take delight
In picturing all Hell the same –
It isn’t such a kink,
But I feel I ought to ’fess-up –
How I always love to think
That the demons love to dress-up
In their costumes made of discount shirts,
With crooked ties and polished shoes,
And glasses fit for introverts,
And parted hair, and no tattoos…
Ev’ry Halloween,
Do they spend the night pretending, posing,
To be us,
Just as we, tonight, aspire to be them –
So, if they are seen,
I really want to be try befriending those
Who copy us –
Because I guess they must admire us then…
Demons jostling on the trains,
With blinking phones and leaking pop,
And zig-zagging through mopey rains,
And queuing at the coffee shop.
In costumes made of good-enough,
And needs-a-press, and if-I-must –
Just demons that I love to love
As trying to be one of us.
Rhyming Couplets 