Matthew Scott Harris Unmasks ha...ha...ha...Halloween

After becoming confident

(das ernest frank gent) handled ignition

jerryrigged knobs, levers, motors,

nameless other parts quintessentially,

set registers to “understand” vital www xy zone.

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A blitzkrieg capstone detonated explosive forcees

generating horrendous instantaneous jolt,

Krakatoa lost mighty noise,

outrageous phenomena qualified regarding

tremendous unearthly violent

whiplashing xing yawping zeitgeist!

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Imagine; The giant from Jack and the beanstalk, deign

Paul Bun, or the Jolly Green Giant,

straddling an imaginary line

between fall and winter. Therein lied the rub

(a tub tub three men in a tub), a question of mine

if pecking peccadillos peculiar per pretend puppies

engaged in any...Snoop...doggy style spine

tingling homosexual behavior,

no who matter intimated naked playtime also flourished

amidst can dyed cornicopia of good 'n plenty eats

contrasted with paucity,

life and death, Halloween evolved

as a celebration and superstition with wine

woman and song. Such weaning of the hallow,

or hallow of the weaner originated

with ancient Celtic festival of Samhain,

when village people would light vanity of bonfires,

and wear politically incorrect costumes

to ward off roaming ghosts of inept leaders

if necessary rivaling Tarzan impressions

swinging on a vine.

The Mound of the Hostages car bon mot dated

(by this amateur sigh hint hussed)

at 4,500 to 5000 years old, or there about

suggesting Samhain celebrated long before

first Celts arrived in Ireland

about 2,500 years ago with no cleats boot riveting clout

Samhain (pronounced /ˈsɑːwɪn/

SAH-win or /ˈsaʊ.ɪn/ SOW-in,

Irish pronunciation: without,

or possibly Greek to this doubt

ting Thomas – [sˠəuɪnʲ]),

a Gaelic festival marking the end,

when pollination ceased to flout

ushered advent of harvest season,

and beginning cust tomb of caw king grout,

discussing the epic winter of Gilgamesh,

or the "darker half" of the year,

when one feasted on giblets and sauer kraut

Halloween rooted er beer reed in ancient biers

caravansari doggedly exhumed along route,

66 (the third beastly 6

frankly zapped after wildly oscillating

in tandem with seven bobble heads and ten French horns)

a devilish trumpeting event

by pre-Christian Celtic festival standards

with a “proto” Don twick or tweeting

like a Taj Mahal wonder of webbed, wide world scout

Samhain celebrated on nightfall of October 31

for bachanalia, candy corn, dreaded locks tot tout.

Now, the Celts I met lived 2,000 years ago

in the area is now Ireland,

the United Kingdom and northern France,

believed that the dead,

cuz the underworld could not tolerate nor find stand

ding room, thus returned to earth on Samhain –

accessing a outdated map drawn by Rand McNally.

Though all roads leading to Rome,

would be millenniums as future did advance

but (mentioned for no particular rhyme nor reason)

only for discordant anachronism

Lewis Carroll took a tumble,

and neither fat nor slim chance,

would never find him completing Alice in Wonderland,

cuz quite an expanse

of centuries extant between his accidental slip

somewhere back in time at a glance

hence, he befell the same fate,

how Alice would never en hance

her life, yet the first stanza hailed

as powerful punch from grunting naked tribesman

with Armstrong brandishing big lance

which phallic symbol extolled bare necessity,

and no need to wear seer sucker pants

even when inaugurating the ritual, including the verse

..."The time has come," the Walrus said

"To talk of ma ny things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."...

set the listeners in a trance

emptying coffers of bipedal feral simians to add vance

this yearly practice filling rucksacks

with berries, carrion and twigs.