Why Banks Close at Night

Round about midnight, on All-Hallows-Eve,

I saw some things you would never believe:

Bones rose from the graveyard’s dust and debris

Eerie voices rang from the Hangman’s tree

Gangly bodies formed without flesh or soul

Skeletons marched, eye sockets black as coal

Dead pirates searched for their missing ships

Jack O’ Lanterns wished for razor-sharp lips

Haggard, old witches flew by on their brooms

Mummies slipped out of their booby-trapped tombs

The streets were crowded with ghouls and goblins

Brainless zombies drooled from their crooked grins

Ghosts rejoiced in whichever form they took,

Moaning and groaning till the whole town shook

T’was certain madness – this magic of old;

Macabre sights that made my blood run cold!

Despite my goose-bumped flesh and tingling spine,

I realized the dead had formed a line

The gruesome parade had swarmed on the bank

Stopped by thick glass, like water in a tank

Though supernatural freaks of the night,

None could pass for security was tight

Frustrated hands pulled at hair and raked skin

The pirates swore they’d find treasure within

A breach – seconds only, but time enough

Pirates cheered and gave their stogies a puff!

Ghosts, zombies and witches poured through the door

Werewolves pushed past other creatures of lore

Bones were rattled, and dire warnings were read

Poor Anne Boleyn carried her bloody head!

The pirates held employees at swords’ hold,

Cursing and growling, “Oy! Where be our gold?”

The workers stood shocked; completely in awe,

All but the one crushed `neath a werewolf’s paw

That one squirmed while screaming “Bloody Mary!”

The rest of us stayed alert, but wary

For the pirates were quick to lay their claim

“We hunt for one man, and ‘ere be his name.”

Gold Digger was printed across parchment

“We knows he be ‘ere, we followed his scent.

No coin or paper can disguise his trail.

Arg! His be the coffin we came to nail!”

They searched desks and set cabinets ablaze,

Till one pirate shouted, “‘Ere his name lays!”

Indeed Gold Digger’s name was scratched in stone

Mistakenly, he’d robbed the bank alone

One girl’s complexion had gone pasty-white!

In a shaky tone, she described that night:

The stand off, the guns, and all the cursing,

Gold Digger filled with holes beyond nursing

This wasn’t a group that shrunk from a threat

They insisted that their demands be met

And since Gold Digger was nowhere nearby;

Already the bank was one demand shy!

That left one more reason to point a sword

“Oy! Plunder the treasure!” one pirate roared

Soon checks and bills, and promissory notes…

Were skewered by steel or cached in their coats

The fun ended when the bank was picked clean

The girl’s pasty face leaned more toward green

Secured by ghosts, she still managed to state,

“Like Gold Digger, you thieves have sealed your fate.”

And then gunshots made a maze of the place,

Though bullets passed through mist without a trace

Ghosts dissipated, and witches took flight

Werewolves dodged lead and leapt into the night

Ghouls, goblins, and Anne Boleyn with her head,

Scrambling on his knees behind her…that bastard she had wed!

Pirates dragged booty onto ghostly ships

Each winked at the girl with the white-green lips

The night masked the guilty, and the room cleared

All those without a pulse had disappeared!

Bullets littered the floor, and tellers cried;

One rolled in a ball with nowhere to hide,

Till from out of that ball she rolled and said,

“I’ve had it with ghouls, pirates and undead!”

Her makeup was streaked, and she was bone-tired

She knew of a place where she would be hired,

So out the door she darted; no glance back

Didn’t that door call, once opened a crack?

Two or three others muscled for the door,

Fed up with visits from creatures of lore

The bank owner fumed; the money gone

Had they been closed, with security on,

The ghostly crew would’ve never gained entry

They would have swallowed their urge for envy,

Because all knew how much they liked to scare;

It’d be no fun without the tellers there!

A board meeting was called, and all agreed

Closing the bank after dark – a done deed!

Now…not that night, but each night thereafter

From far away came the pirates’ laughter

We heard witches’ cackles and werewolves’ howls;

(Sounds that must have originated from the Devil’s bowels!)

They had new haunts; they’d grown bored with the bank

Dodging bullets got old, and tear gas stank

Their new haunt is a rickety cabin

Room aplenty for each ghoul and goblin

Werewolves have a decent view of the moon

Pirates mix ale with an out-of-key tune

Vampires still leave marks like sap on a tree,

And the zombies still wander stupidly

Celebration all night, till dawn’s first wink

Then all grows quiet as the sky turns pink

And so it happened; custom set in stone

And sure enough, they left the bank alone

No more scared tellers and stolen dollars

No more wild groaning or eerie hollers

The customers’ money was safe and sound;

Of no interest to the Devil’s Hellhound

Business flourished, and the board members beamed

Their pockets were lined green and their bling gleamed

They discovered new disappearing acts:

Loans outlined in tiny bold-printed facts

Crazy rates and imaginary fees

Special offers and incentives that tease

They say the vampires and pirates are gone…

But I say they open their doors at dawn!

Copyright Jan. 2010 ~ Sheila Roy