Out of what crypt they crawl, I cannot tell, But every night I see the rubbery things, Black, horned, and slender, with membranous wings, They come in legions on the north wind’s swell With obscene clutch that titillates and stings,… Read More ›
poetry
Each Night Father Fills Me with Dread…
Each night father fills me with dread As he sits at the foot of my bed I don’t mind that he speaks In gibbers and squeaks But for seventeen years he’s been dead. – Edward Gorey Related Posts: – The Gashlycrumb… Read More ›
“Her Strong Enchantments Failing” by A.E. Houseman
Poem III (known as Her Strong Enchantments Failing) Her strong enchantments failing, Her towers of fear in wreck, Her limbecks dried of poisons And the knife at her neck, The Queen of air and darkness Begins to shrill and cry, “O young… Read More ›
The Year of Halloween 