This poem was originally published on Mad Mad Mad Mad Movies on December 2, 2008, as part of a then-current horror blogging alphabet meme. Links in the body of the poem lead to the movies in question and may provide some inkling of the type of flicks we want to see poetry about.
Alaric de Marnac, more evil than sin;
Bladder fx a la The Beast Within;
Curse of the Devil, perfect leap attack;
Diabolik's in Danger, Eva's got his back;
Frankenstein's daughter builds monstrous perversions,
Girl Slaves of Morgana give Gurth fine diversions;
Halloween III, better than I remember,
Inseminoid fucks what he does not dismember;
Jekyll-turned-wolfman, there's one for the ages;
The Karnstein Clan's malady's highly contagious;
Living Dead Girl, such a bittersweet fable;
Meanwhile Malabimba's a little unstable;
Night Train to Terror still has its supporters,
Olaf's sinful dwarfship transcends any borders;
Paul Naschy, the King, with pectorals so mighty,
Queen Hanna and Russ of the Over-filled nightie;
Stella Star rocks the retracting stilettos,
Tourist Trap's workshop: much worse than Gepetto's;
Uwe Boll's unrepresented here, sadly;
Varla will beat up your boyfriends, and badly;
Waldemar's wolf-form has never been beat,
Doctor X's vengance has fly-traps for feet;
Yutte Stensgaard--Lust for a Vamp, Zeta-One;
Ze do Caixao arrives, and the party is done.
With a Zang and an Eep! and a staticky screen
The Vicar is spent..IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
--Vicar of VHS
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