Hello, on this ghoulish week...Our guest writer Don Webb has a poem for ya:
Poe, on the Morning After
After the visits of my vampire lover
After the bites and the bruises
From my harsh cruel muses
After the 1000th time of wondering if she really is a vampire
My world becomes a shaky nauseating kaleidoscope
Now fever dream, now chilly weakness
Now summer, now winter.
Now flowers, now ash.
Ah, I remember it was in the bleak of December
And I, a dying ember, wrought my ghost upon the floor
And as I fade into that final ashy dream I tell myself
The remedy for my pain
Is the pain itself.
A Plumbers Nightmare
1 year ago