Seance of Ecstacy

In the calamine lotion graveyard the tender zombie flesh
is ressurected by the etheric twang of broken banjo music
Father Potatoe presides over this seance for the squeamish
they are clad in fannypacks and sandals, their water bottles
bubble with some fine august moonshine witchhazel brew
volcanoe..pantsuit..aardvaark...souflee...words comingle
nonsense brainfreeze..oh bubble and squeak she says-

Mrs. Butterworth's sausage fingers flex in the European moonlite
as she begins to talk in tongues, her arms and legs akimbo
gothic makeup drooling like a crying drunken clown...