Poem: You are never supposed to open the door

By David C. Kopaska-Merkel

The big heavy door
The one in the basement of your great grandfather’s house
Somewhere in New England, gabled and gloomy
You inherited it
The only living descendant.

Don’t open it!

You are never supposed to open the book.

Its leather binding
Curiously warm to the touch
Its palpable aura of evil
Its place of reverence
In the library full of books despicable and banned.

Don’t open it!

You’re never supposed to spend the night in the cemetery.

The old one
Most of the headstones are illegible
Any that can be read
Belong to known witches and wizards
Accused of the worst crimes
Disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
There are legends.

Heed them!

The filthy old woman
She warned you.
The next day, she was gone.
Not a coincidence!

Ageless beings of unimaginable power want you.
Not to sign up for their unspeakable cults
They want your blood, your heritage.
They want your flesh, your sacrifice.

Stay away!

Foil their plans, be a hero.
Their minions will hunt you down, of course.
Sailors who claim to come from some well-known city
But the language they speak
Among themselves, it’s nothing you recognize.
So, make out your will before it’s too late.

Be a hero and remember
A poison dart to the neck
A fall from the Eiffel Tower
Is much preferable to sliding down the gullet
Of something with an irregular
Number of appendages
And far too many eyes.

***

Bio: Millennia ago, David Kopaska-Merkel crawled out of one of several nameless wells in what is now a desert. Most of his activities since then, like the wells where he was spawned, will not be named. He has been known to write the odd poem or two; more details may be found here and here.

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IFPPoem: You are never supposed to open the door