The Afterhour's Children Poem by Kevin Patrick

Mothballs covered in Bigfoots curly hairs
Are found at parties with electric chairs
Sitting in the middle as live royal thrones
Prom royalty spasms spilling out green foam
Spectators watch drinking monkey moonshine
Conversing on subjects of alchemy and thyme
And crowd of marionettes watch Abstract acrobats
Paint their toes in two dimensions in Escher habitats
The ambassador of gas complains about the cheese
To the ghost of Poe who's just about to sneeze
As seven robed figures stand and observe
The masque of the red death in poppy cock oeuvres
Drunken gargoyles parlay with sphinxes
Whipping out switchblades of alkaline stings
They debate the merits of concrete and stone
To see which one will decay in the storm
Now Flying Dutchmen laugh to the albatross joke
Insouciant lord Midas doesn't move without a poke
But lady gemstone thrives in the ignoble chaffer
Seduced by the leather of vitreous lather
Buddha took his solemnity and dived into a pool
Everyone applauded so Cthulhu went in too
And water turned to jelly, rippling jolly volleys
Soaking midnight outlaws in a scene of Ziegfeld Follies
Everyone is down, from above the underground
This party's not for squares that aren't round to our sound
To the artist and freaks, bohemians and aliens
The afterhour's children shine their black radiance