This Ghoul Dolled Up

Whether the weather necessitates to anchor myself as a tether when the frankenstorm socks the east coast shredding terrestrial zone like soft leather i may end up attired in esprit de corpse being tossed hither and yon to and fro like a feather. If...the forecast imbues meteorologists flooded with folly making a mockery of humanity run amuck in panic mode - by golly this mortal male will don himself as "the chief garbage" taster with a garland of holly shuffling along the boulevard of broken tin cans and rubbish feigning to be melancholy. This getup a throw back to a costume adorned this papa when he attended grade school eons ago, where corporal punishment prevailed in case student disavowed any rule such as smoking in the boys' room cigarette such manufactured by Kent or kool or lambasting any unlikable teacher, (whose bookish face) at receiving end of pranks rather cruel. So...presume that Halloween will take place without any axe of nature to grind monster brewing at sea and picture this poet decked out dumpster diving for the most fetid trash and materiel with cracks to be affixed upon a heavy duty sack with goop from sullied foodstuffs - a cause for glee rotten meat infested with maggots, shards of glass, crushed metal cans, et cetera to the max will be haphazardly splayed (Jackson Pollack like) on this sturdy cloth that will drape me spurring a conga like of hungry beasts ready go pounce – menacing ferocious wolf packs adding to the welter per helter skelter of decayed detritus distributed from head to knee and a set of punishing pronged antlers spiking out in all directions upon ma noggin-hence to tax utmost fear in passersby, and quite an abominable sight to see.