Encased in a black musty smelling crypt
below the bustling city sidewalk,
there I lay in the dank dark basement of death.
Surrounded by my only friends:
a busty horned woman of pasty complexion,
ukulele playing hula zombies,
numerous decapitated decayed monkey skulls,
a bodiless oracle with nothing to say,
and tiny creepy monsters who scream out to be heard.
Above my head dangle generations of ancient cobwebs
crisscrossing the worm-eaten rafters.
Yet in this undesirable environment
visitors pass by my silent grave and gawk
at the mysteries that are before them.
They stare at me thinking I am dead
and that my friends are to be pitied
for their morbid state.
They do not perceive that I am alive
and that my friends will be following them home.
For a visit to the crypt cellar is never over.
HA HA HA SEE YOU Oct 5th 12-10pm