The Black Hole of New Jersey…

No towers for cell phones,

Digging around you might find Hoffa’s bones,

Native implements can be found made of stones,

In the dark of night one might hear devilish moans…

Overhead stars do not there shine,

An eerie fog does at your feet climb,

Upwards it does drift to cover from the waist down,

Something under the fog does brush past,

Out of the pines you do run so very fast…

Some may feel NJ is one big city,

For them mores the pity,

Growls can be heard and they ain’t no little kitty,

Better hope you are not so very pretty…

For those that haunt the pines,

Don’t in advance give any signs,

Nor do they when offered human food decline,

As part and parcel of the Pine Barrens will you then become intertwined…

          © ed ~ 8/30/05