Jack-O'-Lantern
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When I was a child, excluding Christmas,
Halloween was my favorite time of year.
I loved crafting homemade costumes from old rags
to wear trick-or-treating in the neighborhood.
And yet, I got the most fun from carving
the scariest pumpkin my mind could conceive.
It was the only time I was allowed to wield a butcher knife,
and I reveled in it; to me, carving pumpkins was a form of art.
Dad would drive me to a pumpkin patch,
where I got to pick out my favorite;
amongst the assorted orange canvases
worthy of my artistic talents.
And once I got back home,
I'd start by scalping the top of the pumpkin
to gain access to its skull.
And with gloved hands, I'd scoop out its brains,
which felt mushy, gooey, slimy, and gross;
as I removed them, to make my Jack-o'-lantern.
Then, with an eye for the hideous, I'd prepare to carve.
Sculpting its grotesque features, I'd start by gouging out its eyes,
shaping a deformed nose, and cutting a toothy, grimacing smile.
When finished, I'd proudly present my monstrosity to Mom;
who'd light a candle and stick it inside my gargoyle.
Then she'd set it out on our stoop to impress the neighbors,
and guard us against any evil demons
that may be skulking around on this All Hallows' Eve.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2022
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