Here’s your special invitation
to a monster celebration
held by all the ghost and ghouls you love to fear.
Not your everyday occasion,
it’s the netherworld invasion
on October Thirty-First of every year.
You can tell the party’s started
when a band of the departed
bangs a beat to tap your feet with broken bones,
complimented by the chanting
and the syncopated panting
of a werewolf’s horrid howls and mighty moans.
Frankenstein and fellow critters
give their human guests the jitters
as they boogie to the tune of Monster Mash.
Be prepared for foul surprises
as the witching hour rises
when the hungry herds of zombies groan and gnash.
Evil corpses pass among us
canapés of poison fungus
if you need a deadly treat on which to munch.
But I’ll warn you if you’re drinking
that you’re right if you’ve been thinking:
what they’re pouring might be red, but isn’t punch.
And the highlight of the party
is a psychopathic smarty,
and the coolest creep you’ve likely ever seen:
but while Dracula is vicious,
he’s sincerest in his wishes
that you have a happy haunted Halloween.