HORROR Poem: The Evil Clown of Wanker-town, by James Huneycutt

When I was just eleven years old
you said it was a boy’s love that you sought.
I was scared at first, but you drugged me up.
I was a love mannequin who never fought.
Knew some day I’d return from Wanker-town
once the drugs you gave wore off.
Now you’re texting me all over again.
You say other boys leave you soft.

Time to meet an evil clown in Wanker-town
and put a big smile on her face.

I’ll block you from all contact
but my mom will hunt you down.
She’ll vivisect you slowly
cause mom’s the evil clown.
If it’s suffering you’ve been seeking
then I guess we’ll both agree
that the paralytics she’ll administer
will leave you anything but pain-free.

Time to meet an evil clown in Wanker-town
and put a big smile on her face.

You say you’re an ordained bishop
with a robe and odd-shaped hat,
but I’ll bet mommy’s whirring bone saw
cuts through your breastbone in 5 seconds flat.
Your heart won’t look very sacred
as she’s showing it to you.
Better whisper some vesper
as your cyanotic lips turn blue.

Time to meet an evil clown in Wanker-town
and put a big smile on her face.

My mom’s stainless-steel gurney
collects all your bodily fluids,
though devoid of transubstantiation,
they’re a treat for her vampiric druids!
The brain we’ll donate to science
and watch it glide down the sluice
into a jar with a satisfying splat
forever to bob in formaldehyde juice.

Time to meet an evil clown in Wanker-town
and put a big smile on her face.