Here’s something I wrote in 1982. Enjoy it if you can. It’s a little creepy but, hey, it is Halloween!

The Real Story Of Halloween

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The poker game had just begun

On that October night, day thirty-one.

And ‘round the big table, three men each with his Frau,

Names being Queen and Ween and Mama Big Jaw.

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Each man, a heathen, with customs to match,

Chewed tobacco and pokeweed, and spit at the cat.

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A copper gridgen, the ante, was tossed in the pot,

Then five cards were dealt right there on the spot.

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The betting began, the stakes, a life,

For if a man lost all his gridgen,

Then he must ante up a piece of his wife.

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It was four-of-a-kind that cost Ween all her toes,

And a straight, nine card high, that lost her … her nose.

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Three of a kind and a lousy pair,

Left Ween without ears, her ribs and her hair.

Her liver and spleen slid all over the place

When a hole card was shown, the mighty ace.

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It was the royal flush that was the baddest hand,

‘Cause it cost poor Ween her thyroid gland.

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And by the time All Saints Day did arrive,

The Pagan card game was still alive.

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A heart was beating on the door,

And a lung lay gasping on the floor.

A pancreas was panting for want of a cell,

And the body of Ween was but a shell.

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The poker game stopped when Big Jaw screamed,

“Enough is enough, you devilish fiends.

You have played fair and square, down right clean,

But just look over there … you’ve hollowed out Ween!”

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“And so we have,” laughed the bloody lot,

“And we feel quite sure they will forget us not.

Although pumpkins and witches may appear on the scene,

None can compare with our hollow Ween.”

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© 1982 Robert L Maxwell