The Party at Dungeon Number Two

Wizards, witches, dragons, and trolls and goblins too,
were invited to a party at Dungeon Number Two.
The food was pickled dormice with vampire bat hors d’oeuvres,
and plates of earthworm soufflé that wriggle when they’re served. 
Crickets dipped in snail slime, and tadpole caviar,
were followed by desserts that were even more bizarre;
creamy maggot pudding mixed with reindeer moss,
and rotten egg meringues in an orange stink bug sauce.
They washed it down with cockroach juice and salamander wine;
drinks to make one’s toes curl that shiver down the spine.
 
To get the party going, they played “The Monster Mash.”
The dragons started dancing and their tails began to thrash.
No one seemed to notice that their breath was far too strong;
that they set the chairs on fire when they tried to sing along.
The witches danced on broomsticks in the midst of all the smoke,
and laughed and cackled raucously at one another’s jokes.
Soon dancing turned to talking and comparing magic potions,
their recipes for brew and their wart-inducing lotions.
The eldest gave advice as she chewed on moldy cheese,
how best to skin a toad and to rid one’s cat of fleas.
 
Far across the dance floor, the wizards tapped their feet;
their purple robes were flowing, just a’groovin’ to the beat.
They danced and waved their wands, exchanging evil spells,
while the goblins sat alone, emitting vile smells.
The goblins couldn’t dance, wouldn’t mingle, didn’t mix,
they wouldn’t talk to anyone, just played some awful tricks.
The trolls spread nasty rumors about a billy goat;
a dragon lost his patience and he threw them in the moat.
The soggy trolls stomped off, still trailing noxious reeds,
each blaming all the others for their own misdeeds.
 
The host arrived at midnight, a man named Vladimir;
he hovered in the shadows, acting rather queer.
Vlad was deathly quiet and dressed in funeral black,
but when he sucked on bloodroot, his lips went smack, smack, SMACK!
He made the witches nervous, and oh, how he did vex,
with eyes that lingered longingly upon their slender necks.
He lay down in a coffin as the sun began to rise,
and wished them all good-night in a cloud of buzzing flies.
He thanked them all for coming, then slammed the coffin to,
and so the party ended at Dungeon Number Two.
 
© 2010 Rebecca Colby