Ron Shiflet

Burrowing underneath the graves
of humans newly dead,
to drag them from their place of rest
that all ghouls might be fed.

Unholy sustenance so sweet;
on human flesh they dine.
"To Richard Upton Pickman"
toast the revelers with their wine.

The time will come when man forgets,
so of that day beware.
For like a plague spewed forth from Hell,
they'll rise up from their lair.

A colony below the earth,
hid from the sight of men.
Before we walked they ruled the world;
and once more will again.

A canine face and leathery skin
that reek of graveyard mold.
Eager for the danse macabre
with a partner dead and cold.