FLUID IN THE CRUST
I wander-crawl through a labyrinth of old stone passages.
Scared with heart pounding, I don’t turn back.
Emerge from an old stone fireplace that smells of dusty age.
I’ve been here before, and return again.
Won’t you come along?
It won’t be long,
It’s a castle, a mansion, a cabin.
In a marsh, the woods, the field,
The mountains, the hills, the plains.
It has stood for ages.
It has encompassed all dread.
It has absorbed all fear.
It has distorted and fucked every joy.
Won’t you come along?
It doesn’t care if you do,
But you’re welcome to.
The rooms are bare
They feel full
Air thick with phantoms
So thick you can’t see
Like a dry fog.
The wooden floors are rotted and soft
But the dry moisture only whispers your footfalls.
Each step dreadfilled and heavy.
Each direction a rusted dagger into your brain.
Through a doorway we go again.
Another room, another time, another memory.
I’m feeling fine and relish the pox
The curse that floods over you warms a trembling soul.
Come on along. Won’t you?
It won’t be long.
We won’t be long.
Its never long.
Climb a set of stairs that should hold no weight,
But always does.
No, you can’t run! Just try!
See? Same speed every time,
And always
Dread behind
Dread ahead.
This room housed a corpse.
Dying horribly and decaying slowly.
Its almost gone now
A sinister potpourri.
Ignite that shit like incense and hang out.
There are more rooms and more levels
More passages and more halls.
Great halls!
Where the dead had a feast!
Where servants toiled with yeast!
The special pies were a must.
There’s fluid in the crust.
I’m on a blow-back mission, man.
Got 54 rooms to go.
Don’t be scared.
Come on along.
Even the ghosts are gone.
The phantoms though remain.
Always thick as thieves.
They’ll become dear.
They’ll coat you like sweat.
They’ll drive you mad if you let them.
Wander with them and suck in the pain.
Stabs your brain, dares to make you insane.
So come on in sane.
Won’t you come along?
It won’t be long. I promise an oath.
It’s a journey and adventure
A revelation and consternation.
Come on along!
It won’t be long.
It’ll be forever.
I read with dread... then sickly felt fed.
ReplyDeleteNot one other beast, can present such a feast.
One gaze up those stairs renewed me my fears.
I walked them once you know, flounced in silk, white as snow.
It was when I looked back, then my drape turned to black.
Tattered strips like a beggar wears,,, ah yes,,, I remember well, my fears....
Running fast yet standing still, Of your words I take my fill...................
Out fucking standing!
ReplyDeleteKnow you, whom thou, might this writer be?
ReplyDeleteI once stood amongst the mightiest oak trees..
Then wind, when did blow, stripped of me, to core...
No friend,,, did I know,,, when I walked,,, the forest floor...
Though my ears,,,,I held tightly, it came,,,, piercing nightly.
As I sank even deeper into the mossy floor ,,,
As I sank,,,,, even deeper,,, into the mossy floor.
And now, I implore you,, for to go on, would surely bore you...
Will you know who I am,,,if I say, "Nevermore"?
Yes!! That's right!! you know me, It is me,,,
Your Lenore...
Oh, jeese...it's dueling Edgars...
ReplyDeleteCome on Sis! Feel your inner Edgar... FEED your inner Edgar!!! IT wants to FEED! It WAITS TO FEED! TOM WAITS LIKES TO FEED! EDGAR FEEDS WHILE TOM WAITS!!!!!!
ReplyDeleteTOM WAITS FOR NO ONE!!!
ReplyDeleteSo true.
ReplyDeleteI want to get some walkin-around-money, head over to Poe's grave with a bottle of Jack, and hang out listening to Waits at midnight.
Bring Patron for me!!!!
ReplyDelete