Seven kids came. Mom
barely remembered to buy
candy
and seven kids came.
Neighbor Mary says,
"I'm going to get fat eating this.
If you hadn't come,
I would have come over
and given it to you myself.'
The dying un-holy day
draws dark, glows
orange,
no bang but a whimper.
I'm just holding the bag for my brother, see?
Speak up, don't be shy, yell "trick or treat!"
Best friend Dauphin
charges off to
quell insubordinate
questions
wriggling under his
lead lance
at Princeton Review.
One says, 'Sorry, no candy.'
Only one wishes us a happy Halloween.
No elaborate haunted houses,
no lichees masquerading as eyeballs
in water-filled finger bowls.
I drop off brother Middlest
at a strange party.
Half-children roll around
on the rugged
floor, epithets fly while
harried parents
tug at their hair. No one in
costume.
Fifty kids came.
No black light, no black plastic
draping the walls. No glow-in-the-dark
spiders. No foolish fanged
grinning hosts with bashful wives
hovering behind. No middle-aged
witches, no tiny Tinkerbells.
Slipping back to
elementary-school emotions. Seasons
defined by holiday moods
Easter: white, yellow, green, egg baskets
Chocolate egg cream filling
overdose.
Thanksgiving: brown, black, yellow, cornucopias
Smell of cornbread, Pilgrims' feast.
Halloween: yellow, black, orange,
leaves, cold air, the moonlight.
Witches abound as primal shadows
flit across my heart.
Today passes for any other day.
Homework, test, musical narcotic
Half-hearted costume and
half-hour ghoul fair
for
brother Littlest
News flash - Scientists say Druids
invented Halloween to load up on
calories before winter.
The more chocolate you eat, the better.
Thank God there's Christmas: green, red,
commercialist hype, over-priced trinkets,
dial-in Santas cluttering the airwaves
and
seven days of
i n d o l e n c e .
seven kids came.
mom
barely remembered to buy
candy
and
seven kids came
Manish Vij