Here he comes. Saint Samhain, starborn gargoyle
with eyes that resemble wet charcoal
and a stomach as full as a Sunday's best carload
His mind is infested with interesting schizophrenias
Asmodeus phobias and dead spider Gods from Kenya
he is an engorged lord forlorn and bored for millenia
Saint Samhain the Wilderlocke was the last of his bewildered lot
and this he pondered in October, when at once came a smokey odor
from the east? no, the western border
so he marched his farthest, parched, resting beside the St. Louis arch
With haste he wandered into Washington, within a half an hour
Home of a ghost that kidnapped geriatrics and a mountain that glowered
Mount Rainier, purple headed monstrosity, rubbing it's stump ingraciously
into the azure prairie above, hated all things, and those that hate he loved.
Saint Samhain removed his Erlenmeyer mask, and sequestered his lips for the question to be asked...
What's that order? interrupted the erupted loudsome one. I plan to spill my insides
and toss them like streamers into the sky and I won't stop until I'm fed femurs from those that died.
Saint Samhain though he could trick the dead troll by feeding it gray birch branches to
prevent the birth of avalanches
But it didn't quite work out. Saint Samhain had lived for so long, so stretched was his mind
That to think a thing over for but a minute, would take about ten years time
And so by the time he was no longer entranced and reached for that branch
He was standing alone
not a rock or a stone
just Saint Samhain
and his make-believe bone.What do you think of this poem?
Wow
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