OCTOBER 31st.

In the cold country street
by the photographed October 31st
through broken mirrors
of the cursed unspoken
silent horror movie
my students have taken down
into the home room corridors
when the snowy doors open
suddenly opening to
the cellar's dark room
blacked out by the sun
it all seems to meet
with stellar charades
in motion at the sleepy
Gothic doom's day
at the last limestone
gloomy caves playing out
in a hollow dramatic
gas lighted volcanic scene
of a midnight picnic
as blasphemous
and vexed
ex monkish ghosts
float in grey shades
by the graves tomb,
what shrill boasts follow
the narrow shades
of the blackened shadows
at the cracked windows
where thickly ashen
and sponged greenish
orange and black costumes
are worn in a titanic Ulalume
on Halloween
where the poet
Edgar Allen Poe wishes
he had never been.