Short-Cuts: Quatrains of Fear, Volume I (1-3)

Finding out was the easy part of it
Explaining how it was done will take time
After all, you did want everyone’s love
Returning a slice of you to do so

France is a nice place this time of the year
Eating outside is all part of the scene
Although I’m sure this is not what it means
Remember, don’t eat at Cannibal Joe’s

For as long as you can recall hearing
Everyone said it would never happen
And now you find how wrong they really were
Run for your life in the apocalypse

Slave

The questions on how it all happened
Don’t matter much the way you see it
But it did happen and there is the truth
Although the truth today is far from setting you free

Before it all went down, you were going down
On any high-paying, Tom, Dick, and Hairless guy
You were enjoying the life, the pay, the attention
Before you realized you were tricked into the trade

Your benefactors, so long since gone
Like fresh customers and your humanity
Yet you still remain faithful to your old job
A slave as you grind whether dead or alive

But what does one pay the dead like you
Who gives out for free the final fellatio?

Walt-Mart

You used to love shopping there in the past
Now you despise it beyond what you know

You enjoyed the sweet smell from the bake shop
The free reading from the magazine rack
The tasting of fresh fruits that weren’t samples
The trying of clothes that you weren’t buying

You enjoyed the scenery just as well
Critiquing skinny jeans as you strolled by
Those good-looking girls in their spandex pants
In their waist high skirts or their skimpy shorts

Yes, you always liked going there to shop
Certainly now, you’d rather go elsewhere
Battling the undead through the long aisles
To get to the canned corn is far too much

A Sonnet for Elvira, Mistress of the Macabre: No. 11

It sure is hard to focus on her eyes
            That they say are truthfully and boldly beautiful
            That they say hold the secrets of her true and inner-self
            That they say are located somewhere on her face between her ears

It sure is hard to focus on her eyes
            That they say houses all the sweet sarcasm of the world
            That they say can make any man fall in love with her
            That they say can also bleed bank accounts dry

It sure is hard to focus on her eyes
            That they say shine like crystals in the pale moonlight
            That they say are like Medusa’s and can destroy a man
            That they say are up there somewhere high above her breasts

It sure is hard to focus on her eyes
            I’m sure she has them, but because of her breasts, I’ve never seen them