When floorboards creep in the halls and strange and putrifying smells emanate from

unlit chambers, whenever foul and peculiar snacks unnibbled at night, that's the time

when my wife is present, practicing her terror with ghoulish delight.

Welcome foolish mortals to the haunted Alison Rosen is your new best friend show.

Tonight Alison welcomes her undead guests, fresh from their recent departures.

Oh, you did not know?

Perhaps you're wondering how they perished.

Well, Diet Coke she drank so nonchalant despite the health effect unknowns, and when she

quit it was a dry croissant that choked to death Genachim Jones.

In IT he worked for insurer Kaiser, deleting viruses and linux and doss, but a virus of

which he was not wiser, deleted him at last for Alan Moss.

And he loved to surf to yoga and juice, he was a california feller, while in the water

he dropped a doose and a poop shark ate grey peller.

I see your turning pale, do my poems make you ravenous?

Chef Jeff is here to serve you the freshly carved flesh of a bouldering corpse with

ranch dressing, it's good.

I'm the ghost of her once so alive husband, Daniel, and I ask, is this haunted intro actually

stretching?

Or is it your imagination?

And consider this dismaying observation.

This marriage has no windows and no doors.

Leaving me with this chilling challenge, to find a way out.

...