Can you get a whiff of that?
Smells like death's left over scat.

Things going thump in the night?
Replace that old steam system.
It's a corroded fright.

Can you hear that eerie howl?
It's just the wind and not an owl.
Nor a wolf pack prowl to disembowel.

So you think you saw a ghost?
In fog so thick your mind's turned toast.

And then there are chains,
rattling in the dark, like the overhead light,
when trains pass by so close at night.

Is there something under your bed?
Or just a nightmare so well fed?

Is it in the closet just across the room?
Well sweep it out, here's a broom.

Can you suppress a mortal scream?
Heard you chortle last night amid a dream.

How I love that poultice... Christ,
suck that devil out... so nice.

There are bats in your belfry,
and scabs on your ass.
This poem, definitely,
has no class.

A poltergeist in the movie

From the Movie © fandom.com

Thought it was time that I returned to a
little bit of irreverent humor...

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More Poems

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Copyright 2017 © Ronald W. Hull


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