A Purple People Poem Poem by Tom Arnone

Retro thrusters, smokey hot,
Thunder in the dim of night.
Sprouting things all green and broke,
Mutant brains are taking flight.

Mole like beasts with huge blind eyes
Push and pour from glowing holes.
Corpses scream with undead cries.
Gelatinous blobs expand with souls.

Bodies flail in polka-dot bikinis
While death rays rip through flesh and bone.
Heady cyborgs sip oily martinis
With metallic olives that chirp and groan.

Curious apparitions haunt vampiric covens
Of werewolves and werecats without revulsions.
Scientists (most mad) create life in lab ovens
In the midst of their monstrous id compulsions.

But the worst and most horrific to face
Are those poetry spouting people beaters,
Cannibalistic abominations from outer space:
The shunned and reviled Purple People Eaters.

Copyright (c) 2012 Tom Arnone
(Revised 2015)