Halloween 🎃

What Are You Going to Be?

Scooby doo, and a crocodile
Nod hi when catching
Each other’s eye on the 9.45 into town
As you smooth down your Daenerys dress
In this sudden uncharacteristic moment, you… express yourself.

What would be fun,
What’s not been too done
What am I going to be…

Angels, devils
Jokes or efforts
Some go hell for leather
Could be youtube experts.
Or it’s a costume out the packet
Or somewhere in between
Bits and bobs bought from specialist shops,
Dust off moths from
Clothes at the backs of wardrobes.

What would be fun,
What’s not been too done
What am I going to be…

Confuse the ghouls,
Surprise the spectres
So they don’t mistakes us for kindred spirits,
But what they don’t realise
In the paints and masks
the covers the facades,
Are who we are,
Or part of us, an element,
something underneath.

Our superhero costumes are usually under shirt
As we do what we must to get through trials at home or work.
But for one night, we get a spin of the phone box,
And emerge.

There’s a witch at the bus stop
A pirate on the till
A unicorn in the toilet queue,
While the ring master waits for a free cubicle.
Pop art girls wave their goodbyes, walking Lichtensteins
Two legged spider friends go to dance
A wonderland rabbit running late,
hops quick past,
Dorothy’s plaits twist,
A Stormtrooper’s pissed
Men are women
And women are men
And people are characters
Rules transcend.

When immersed in a night of undress
What you put on uncovers the rest
Who we are, who we want to be.
Who would you be if you could be…

It’s all mixed up, what we want each other to see,
the signals we send, tapped,
to be mapped,
requiring translation,
From the subtle to the blatant.

The morning after
The 1st of November
goth eyeliner down your face,
Braving the walk of shame. Jaws is waiting for the station gates to open,
tomato sauce in their morning roll,
Spell broken.

Every day can hold more scares;
Than beleaguered die or a talking bottle of beer,
Day to day affairs
Can be infinitely more absurd,
Than merely dressing up.

Maybe a costume’s just a costume,
Nothing more nothing less
But the day still begs the question;
What are you going to be?



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