Psycho Joe
by Lisa McCourt Hollar
When you hear the
floorboards creak,
Late at night when
you can’t sleep
And the howling
wind pounds against the door
And something
clatters across the floor,
Close your eyes,
close them tight,
Lest what you see
may cause you fright.
Psycho Joe’s come
out to prowl,
Looking for a body
to disembowel.
He’s especially
happy if you’re still alive,
When he begins to
explore what you have inside.
He’ll giggle with
glee, as he hands you your spleen,
And dance with joy
whilst you scream.
Don’t look into
his soulless eyes,
Lest you see
Satans’ disguise.
His balding head
and faded features
Hide from view a
tormented creature.
Your pleas for
mercy go unheard
As he announces,
dinner is served.
He’ll eat your
heart, give your liver to the cat,
And pluck out your
eyes to feed to the rats.
So when the wind
is howling, the floorboards are creaking,
You may want to
make sure it’s just the faucet leaking
And not Psycho Joe
washing his hands,
Before eating a
dinner, his appetite demands.
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