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Rated: GC · Poetry · Ghost · #2101396
Ghost Hunter Hormel's Last Hurrah
Listen to the wind
whispering through Spamville's ruins
warning Ghost Hunters never to offend
the ghostly platoons of Spamville.

Spamville's ghostly soldiers wander
though dusty avenues
looking for vortex
that will carry them to Spamhalla
and free their weary spirits
from the curse
of the paranormal and unappetizing Sham Spam.

Ghost Hunter Hormel's
arrival in Spamville
was announce by howling spam devils
dancing through the ruins.

Fearing for his spamballs
he took refuge
in the commissary
where he discovered
cans,
cans,
and more cans
of jellied meat
waiting
for someone to ope a can
and eat.

George
loaded the cases and cans of spam
onto eight Land Rovers
and a 1900 black Ford model T pickup truck
then he sent them back home
with a note to his awkward son
that read:
"We've hit the spam mother lode,
start advertising campaign immediately,
and tell my wife I'll soon be coming home."

Wrapping himself in a sleeping bag
he chose to spend one more night in Spamville,
but as he lay dozing in the dirt
a spam devil formed
and sucked him into it
starving maw.

Line Count: 42
© Copyright 2016 Prosperous Snow celebrating (nfdarbe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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