Carving Pumpkins

Carving Pumpkins Neither he nor she, but it; not human but magic kind, it squats scooping the guts from a pumpkin. Tweaking a wicker man’s body to crown with the pumpkin its cut, the ratty humanoid creature ignores the clinking chains that bind it to this spot. It’s outlived its sanity; life’s a chore. It carves squash flesh, to make faces that’ll rot, It hunches over the jack-o-lantern. A man watches, his hand gripping his sword, a flash of a pink cheek makes his anger burn. He advances, severs chains with his sword. Once freed the sculptor, in its arms settled, the fresh jack-o-lantern he had jostled. … Continue reading Carving Pumpkins