Huggin’ Molly

Richard Stevenson

Abberville, Alabama is her hang,

and she ain’t no Evening in Paris Granny

Spritzer you wanna hug or kiss

or shuffle on the dance floor with.

No sir! She’s damp, rank, and skanky –

a skinny bag of brittle bones

with a vice-like grip and breath

that could knock a bird off its perch!

Kids beware!  Avoid any tallow-faced,

dark-clothed, wide brim-hatted

or dark hoodie-wearin’ hag at your door.

She not only wants the floor --

She wants to SCREAM in your ear!

Pollute your lungs with her

pestilent, sewer-spawned breath.

It’ll stun you speechless and she’ll

have yer cowerin’ piss-jammied

body in a sack, snap!  Just like that!

Haul you off to some rank grotto or cave

where she’ll pluck yer eyeballs for her drink …

Nibble off your ears and noses,

yer dainty fingers and dangly bits

before you know you’ve got no fingers

or toes.  Nothin’ to wiggle or snag a cell phone

to call home to Mom or Dad on –

just a crunchy bon bon she might

mack on for an aperitif or after-

dinner snack, after she hulls yer skull… .

Richard Stevenson is a retired college English and Creative Writing instructor. Taught for thirty years at Lethbridge College in southern Alberta and recently moved to Nanaimo, B.C. Has the usual pedigree: MFA in Creative Writing, thirty-five published books and a CD to his credit, including four forthcoming volumes in his Cryptid critter, ET, and Fortean lore series.

He says: That's the boring academic stuff. More interested to me is my good fortune in being able to transition from adult free verse of the lit quarterly variety to sci fi, fantasy, and horror! The new titles might give a sense of the fun I've been having, even in these Covid-19 times: _Cryptid Shindig_ (a trilogy including the volumes _If a Dolphin Had Digits_, _Nightcrawlers_, and _Radioactive Frogs_) and a stand-alone collection, _An Abominable Swamp Slob Named Bob_. :-)