Challenge
That Old Black Magic
bewitch and beguile us with a tale of the supernatural / simple as that / poem or prose
A Weremonkey’s Buffet
Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
The weremonkey is having his lunch.
Strange being out in the sun,
But oh my, what delicious fun!
Hunting for food in the park.
So many meals when not dark.
All he can eat. No waste!
A feast of such exquisite taste.
Munching on mortal flesh still alive.
One, two, three, four perhaps five.
Who's next? You dare ask who?
Let me tell, it'll be you!
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