In this here mist
I stand akimbo
From pumpkin head to raised fist 
Shadow of a scarecrow

I strut outside in stylish veils
I moan I scream I rattle my sails
Backed by all that is proper and safe
To which I shall retire on the morrow

Tonight, the scariest within we cast out 
We feast we celebrate we stage it up 
While next door sits in stunted disarray 
The real dwelling of haunted decay.

He lives with ghosts for ever more 
It is his truth, his daily core 
All that after this one night 
We no longer wish flaunted about. 

To seal this dark eve’s happening
A black cat lets itself be seen
And trots alongside for a few paces 
The ferryman of hidden faces. 

20.10.2020 

La tournée du chat noir, Théophile Alexandre Steinlen, 1896, lithographie en couleurs