Zack Vandermelon

COLD BREW

Stuck awake at witching hour,

smells in the air: putrid power

Shadows and monsters coerced to life,

a warlock’s hand in unholy strife

Eye of newt and wing of bat,

poisonous morsels of this and that

Pray in the morning

it won’t come for you,

this delicious cauldron

of witch’s brew