I want to grab your stem , carve you like a pumpkin
Scoop the fleshy seeds out of your pulpy core
Roast them in my oven for a late-night snack.
I want to sculpt your grin like a jack-o’-lantern,
Using a flick of the wrist, a flip of the whim
Shape your lips into the mouth of my choice.
I want to create the cast of your eyes
As wicked and decadent,
Abandon you totally to a haunt of despair.
I want to hold my breath in baseless superstition,
As I lodge my pagan fire in the hollow of your shell.
And I want to trick your treats
Under this absent midnight moon.
This eve belongs to lost souls and sinners.
Confession and contrition are too holy for us now.
(For the Ninja of Japanese Beetles)