Razorblades inside the popcorn balls, LSD secreted in the
candy – here was the horror story on Halloween
back in the 60s where kids in white sheets and carrying
brown paper sacks more safely walked their neighbourhoods
without parents and in the certain hope of bulging bags filled with
a different kind of deadly.
So much older and not there now,
I wonder at those same streets: escorts with guns
who might shoot anyone who doesn’t give because this is our
ritual; checking for messages on the inside of wrappers [like
calls to worship another god than ours]; strange scared faces at
curtains ignorant about years of these festivities and the dangers
we can imagine but at least call our own, or subliminals unlike
ours about sugar and the other sweet certainties of who we are.