Halloween Poem

The Physics of Pumpkins

By Florence Newman

Pumpkins1
“The top’s too heavy, too much space below,”
my neighbor says. “’Spect she’ll start sagging soon.”
He’d lugged the massive thing out front for me.
I realize with horror that he’s right.
I’d carved my share of pumpkins through the years,
protected them from predatory squirrels,
from Mischief Night marauders: hubris had
at last undone me. A slightly wider grin,
an extra tooth or two—I should have known
the plan was flawed, the architecture tenuous.
Before too long the carriage will collapse,
sides slump, rind pit and wrinkle, pulp dissolve
and putrify. The oblique eyes, the arching brows,
isosceles nose are doomed to droop and molder.
Look on those overweening teeth, ye mighty,
and descry their graying edges fold and sear,
like the striate skin of a stitched cadaver.
Now soon a press of princesses, pop stars,
pirates, pixies, vampires, ninjas, sprites,
enchanters, supermen, and bumblebees
will throng the street, importunate to take
their turn, while my poor jack-o-lantern, claimed
by gravity, sits rotting at the door
before I’ve even got the candle lit.
Copyright © 2016, Florence Newman
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This entry was posted on Friday, October 14th, 2016 at 4:27 am and is filed under bats, cartooning, composition, conflict, costumes, death, doodles, Halloween, holidays, humor, illustration, life, light verse, memoir, philosophy, poetry, superstitions, surrealism, wisdom, writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

4 Responses to Halloween Poem

  1. Regina Pilardi says:
    October 20, 2015 at 4:10 pm

    Enjoyed this delightful poem. I’ve heard tell of such Pumpkins.

  2. Sue Royer says:
    November 7, 2015 at 10:11 pm

    Great poem, Flo! I love your use of horror (a very Halloween oriented word)! I could just picture your pumpkin, before you even got the candle in it!

  3. Regina Pilardi says:
    October 17, 2016 at 9:22 pm

    “Love this poem. Well done Florence.

  4. Jan Wilkotz says:
    October 24, 2016 at 7:15 pm

    But the poem triumphs over time and gravity!

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