Meal (an acrostic poem)

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Making food always made him feel both happy and sad.

Every morsel that left his kitchen was a love note to those who ordered it.

A loving response was an empty plate that came back, ready to be cleaned for a new missive.

Leaving food on the plate meant rejection and left him wondering what went wrong.

Scrape (an acrostic poem)

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She scooped out the contents of her soon-to-be jack-o-lantern

Copious amounts of sticky wet goop went plop as it was deposited into the garbage

Releasing a scent that wasn’t as fowl as she had anticipated as the knife cleaned the sides

After a bit more grunt work, the task was finished

Putting her candle inside, the glow from the eyes and mouth gave the room a ghoulish glow

Emmet said he never used his head, so she was happy to use it for him

Nocturnal (an acrostic poem)

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Nighttime was when he was awake and alive

Observing his domain as he prowled the streets

Citizens were happily in their beds now

They were dreaming dreams of a light-filled world

Under which people like him were just fragments of lore

Real-world boogeymen who cleaned up society’s messes

Now that suited him just fine

As he enjoyed the peace and quiet of owning the blacktop

Lifting another trashcan, he deposited the contents in the back of the truck before moving on