Saturday, November 27, 2010

Lori Wall-Holloway

SPOOK

(For Jenny)

I look with pride in the mirror at my
creation. Wearing a long, flowing black
dress with red bloodlike paint splattered on it,
I smile at my ghoulish make-up that sets
it off. I am now all set to depart
to my assignment, much to Mom’s chagrin –

In a makeshift building, I climb up and
down rafters, striking fear into those who
dare to enter. By jumping either in
front or in back of a patron, I cause
fear. My element of surprise makes me
one of the best spooks of the group. Although,
I may take it easy on the little
kids, I enjoy the challenge to make the
big jocks scream or run from me to the next
section. This is especially if I
hear the jocks brag how nothing will scare them.
Ha, ha, ha – I am hailed as the best spook
who draws the crowd. Night after night I play
the part. I get daring, enjoying my
role until – Oh no! My foot slips and I
find myself falling, falling and then BAM!

The cushions I fall on do not break my
fall very well. I’m shaking and in pain.
I feel someone quickly help me up to
get away so the action can resume.

I suppose this ends my stint as the best
spook the Boy Scouts had in their Haunted House.

6 comments:

  1. Hilarious poem, with a dynamite punchline. The lines feel prosaic, so I wonder if this should be a prose poem. Either that or scan the lines to highlight the poetic special effects. Let me illustrate:

    I look
    with pride
    in the mirror
    at my creation.

    Wearing a long,
    flowing black
    dress with red
    bloodlike paint
    splattered on it,

    I smile at my
    ghoulish make-up
    that sets it off.

    I am now all set
    to depart to
    my assignment,
    much to Mom’s chagrin –

    In a makeshift building,
    I climb up and
    down rafters,
    striking fear
    into those who
    dare to enter.

    By jumping
    either in front
    or in back
    of a patron,
    I cause fear.

    My element
    of surprise
    makes me
    one of the best
    spooks
    of the group.

    Although,
    I may take it easy
    on the little kids,
    I enjoy the challenge
    to make the big jocks
    scream or run from me
    to the next section.

    This is especially
    if I hear the jocks brag how
    nothing will scare them.

    Ha, ha, ha –
    I am hailed
    as the best spook
    who draws the crowd.

    Night after night
    I play the part.

    I get daring,
    enjoying my role
    until – Oh no!

    My foot slips
    and I find myself
    falling, falling
    and then BAM!

    The cushions
    I fall on
    do not break
    my fall
    very well.

    I’m shaking
    and in pain.

    I feel someone
    quickly help me
    up to get away
    so the action
    can resume.

    I suppose this ends
    my stint as the best
    spook the Boy Scouts had
    in their Haunted House.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm hoping you like this look better. A common problem for many poets is to give their poem enough space to breathe. Like a fine wine, each line of thought should be allowed to be enjoyed on its own, before the next. It also gives important words a chance to shine. What do you think?

    ReplyDelete
  3. I can't show you this properly on this site, but here's another way to add more "action":

    By jumping
    >>>>>either in front
    >>>>>>>>>>or in back
    >>>>>of a patron,
    I cause fear.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Another way:

    My foot slips
    >>>>>and I find myself
    >>>>>>>>>>falling, falling
    >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>and then BAM!

    ReplyDelete
  5. You might want to stagger the whole poem this way.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Read Lawrence Ferlinghetti for more examples of this method.

    ReplyDelete