So who's running the Creep Crypt?


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