(Here's some early halloween spook, for y'all.)
Trick or treat, shall I snick and snack?
No, there's only one night left.
Before my favorite time of year comes,
Before my pumpkins' time to be heft.
I raise a farm for these pumpkins aplenty,
But so far none of them have been color orange.
And those that don't last long enough to be of use,
I throw away with the rest of the unused parts, in the garbage.
I tend and cater to them all year,
Making sure they're big enough to fit a torch.
To be my fittingly haunting decorations,
All on display on my front porch.
When they're ready for harvest, I cut from the stem,
I always wear gloves for this occasion.
Because as you know, pumpkins can be very juicy,
as I walk them down to my working station.
You'd expect pumpkins to be bleeding out orange,
But mine spew out red, every time I check.
But no matter, it's always the same result,
When cutting a living thing open by its neck.
The process begins like any other,
I cut off the top, and hollow it out.
Sometimes I keep the shell for authenticity,
I don't know what these seeds and the like are about.
I could skin them for a different aesthetic,
Or keep it simple, have everything on display.
Of course, I'll touch them up a bit,
With a bit of color, if I may.
I've dabbled and messed with makeup art,
In hopes that my neighborhood would give me a clap.
So now, when the night of the dead comes,
They would all believe that I've been stabbed.
There's nothing more validating,
Than to hear the children scream in fright.
Even from my lovely, lovely pumpkins,
As I turn them to jack-o'-lanters, once they're ripe.
Oh, how I love halloween,
The only truly exciting fest.
The full moon tonight has gone. Now,
Who should I trick into treating, next...?
