Ramshackle old house,
Near the foot of a hill,
In the shade of a huge old tree.
Its windows all broken,
The door hung wide open,
One last shutter banged often in glee.
Six boys on a dare,
Crept up in the dusk,
To prove they had hair,
(You know where).
They brought along snacks,
And a couple six packs,
Two candles, three lights, and a flare.
A broken old rocker,
Was knocked apart proper,
The pieces then stacked for a fire.
In spreading their bedding,
They made the dust fly,
So choking they unscrewed a top.
Toasted, awhile the sparks did pop.
Sipping to the lines of each liar.
“Why, I remember the time,
When I fought with a lion,
And beat him to death with a book.”
“Hah! I spent some time,
On a Loosiana chain gang.
Then escaped twenty years,”
(He was drinking those beers.)
“With the help of a man with a hook.”
The third one chimed in.
“You guys don't know sin!
I'll tell you a tale from my past.
Once upon a long sail,
With a whaler named Snail,
We ran out of wind,
The sheets hung so thin;
We got stuck in an ocean,
Stuck fast.
“The breeze would not come.
Then we ran out of Rum.
Crackers and Spam were the last things to go.
The two of us lazed,
In the sun, 'bout half crazed.
(I dream't 'bout ham, glazed,)
So I called out to Snail, don't you know?
“But he wouldn't answer,
Though I called,
and I searched.
Across the whole ship for my mate.
So I glanced in the fridge.
It was filled with prime rib,
Leg bones,
and a gizzard,
So I ate like a man, from a plate.
“Snail never showed up.
But a wind, in a gust,
Gave me hope to get back to the harbor.
It was after awhile,
I put rib and neck bones together,
And figured where I got my larder.”
The fourth boy jumped on,
The stories they'ed started.
And spoke of a bear he had slain with a rake.
Then claimed he had wore,
The skin with it's fur,
To a king's coronation, on a lake.
The fifth boy was more tame.
The bravest he'd been,
Per his story was to cheat on a test.
So the last boy was strapped,
And made up a yarn,
In a bid to outdo all the rest.
He blew a smoke ring,
Then opened one more.
Took a long pull to get wet.
Five attentions went rapt,
As he gathered his breath,
For a tale to someday repeat.
“Walking home late one night,
In cloud speckled moonlight,
A groan stopped me fast in my track.
The trees rustled silver,
In a breeze hustled shiver,
That chilled,
Thrilled,
All the bones in my back.
“I peered through the edge,
Of a forest unchecked,
Overgrown and hanging with vines.
My blood turned to ice.
I screamed out, “NO!.” twice!
As a red wolf lept into my face!
His lunge knocked me down.
Hot breath flushed my face.
Growls bared fangs sharp as thorns.
In cascade between teeth,
His drool flooded my cheek.
Wide eyes glowed yellow with scorn.
“I knew I was dead.
My arms and face bled.
Though I fought like a demon
He would not dissuade.”
The boy's eyes flashed bigger,
As his movements came faster.
His fingers did swagger to the words of his tale.
The listeners enthralled,
Did not notice his jaws,
Stretch out while teeth grew and glistened.
Wild screams rent the night,
And with the come of daylight,
Only one boy walked home from their mission.
DVWG Guest Poet Glenn Willis