Experience Writing Halloween:Poetry Prompt: Write a poem about a blob. Why should readers fear a blob? Try some surprising details.

Artwork WP AI

Marnie Laughlin stood at her Grandmother’s side

as she stewed their dinner for that night.

Grandmother sang, she hummed, and she

chanted, whispering to their dinner

to please turn out right.

They were so hungry, they were starving and nearly blind

from the hunger that came upon them swift as death

on its pale horse that night.

Their dinner boiled, it bubbled, it popped, and it hissed,

and Marnie asked her Grandmother,

“Is it supposed to smell like this?”

And from the pot

where their dinner stewed, something answered back:

“All I know, kid, is I smell better than you.”

PHOTO BY WP/AI A.M. Moscoso