Where are all the scary poems? Why are poems not scary? What did Edgar Allan Poe do to them?
I will tell you what ol' Eddy did to scary poems. First, take off your shoes.
Yeah, doesn't that feel nice? Bet your feet are thanking you.
thank you! thank you!
Now, take off your pants. Come on, nobody's looking. You're alone. Just you and the internet.
Yeah, you feel free.
Yeah, you're beautiful. Take it all off, you'll feel free. You and the internet and your body and the air in its caress and its love always surrounding you.
Breathe in the air that hugs you. When you breathe you inhale your scent and the scent of those who've held you.
Now your body is a poem. The light on your body is the light on a poem.
Now forget about the rabid, dark poet trapped between your walls. Ignore his haggard breath as he churns his limited air into toxic carbon dioxide. His mad cries growing pale and soft as melted ice cream.
Poor sweet Eddy. No one cares to hear that ol' cow bark.
There's a new scary poem in town.
There's a new everything now.
Posted by DeWitt at 2:39 PM