6037. I WATCHED THE OLIVE

I WATCHED THE OLIVE

Loaded like a dictionary  -  pimiento and

garlic indeed. Here it is, we sit at the table

holding napkins, wondering what's ahead.

Horror night? Things that jump out of candles,

or into the candle-light, however that goes. I

can see through ghosts like the fabrics of a

gauze. Ghouls. Goblins. Skeletons. Ghosts.

-

Some fools are eating fire   -   the mental man is

bending spoons, the card-reader is, well, reading

cards. Outside of my small circle of friends, the

only things left are the dead and the haunted.

By George, let's run to the graveyard again. Yes!

Let's run to the graveyard again.