dear friend, the witching hour seems to be upon us
monsters
demons even
appear to walk the earth
I look to the clock but it’s not even half past
10 a.m.

I turn on the TV
more devils greet me
grotesquely toothy grins spread across their faces
quite happy with their quick work
as temples burn and the people hunger,
eaten away by manufactured famine

so I shut off their twisted broadcast
and open the freezer
              factory farmed chicken tenders?
                                                                      sliced bread?
                                                                                   fried rice from trader joes?
                                                                                                                                  does it fucking matter, really?

my god, it’s not half past 10 a.m.
and their pointy claws dig at the frayed edges of my soul

defeat licking at my heart like a neurotic dog,
I sigh and resolve to take a walk-
                                                                                                                              maybe that will clear my mind?

some of the beasties smile at me as we pass one another
on the sun cracked sidewalk
perhaps thinking
that soon my possession too
will take hold

they look like my uncle
and the president
and sometimes they even look
like who I see
when I dare peer into the mirror.

fiends walk among us
ghoulish even in the daylight
gnashing their fangs with sick delight
and I wonder when the flames
will come swallow me too