Psycho Joe

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.

Joe's Night Out

Joe's Night Out
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

Moonlight fills the graveyard, lighting the way,
For Psycho Joe, who's come out to play.
It is Halloween night, his favorite time of year,
When souls of dead friends are sure to be here.

First to dig up, his friend Crazy Bob,
Whos head is missing one or two cogs.
Bob, who is awake, crawls from his grave,
A gleem in his eye of the mentally depraved.

When he'd been alive they'd been the best of friends,
Untill one deadly night when he'd nearly lost his head.
But on his shoulders, Bobs' head remains,
With the blade of a sword halfway through his brain.

The result of an accident, or so Joe explained,
He was aiming for his arm, not the inside of his brain.
But Bob didn't hold it against his insane friend,
Who is dangerously close, to loosing his own head.

Then they looked for Sally, whos mind had come unglued,
the day she found her husband wearing her red, high heeled shoes.
She didn't really mind that he'd borrowed her dress,
Or even that he'd left her razor a mess.

She'd always suspected he liked to wear her things
And once even caught him, trying on her rings.
But Sally loved those high heeled shoes
And the size of his feet, stretched them beyond use.

Sally didn't think her actions were too rash,
When minus his feet, he went out with the trash.
And at her trial, Sally didn't bat an eye,
When jurors tired of insanity pleas, sentenced Sally to die.

Her first Halloween, back from the dead,
She ran into Joe and the friends that he led.
Last on his list, his pal, Loony Lou,
Who'd once given Joe a recipe for cat belly stew.

Lou was a culanary with an aquired taste,
Specialising in cat guts and chopped eyeball paste.
But he bit off as they say more than he could chew
And choked on a piece of Fido cordon Bleu.

When the four friends were together at last,
They headed into town, for their annual blast.
Joe has a new recipe he wants to share with Lou,
One that involves cutting up pieces of you.