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the thing on the doorstep (i don’t particularly like this poem, it was kind of spooky when composed in the dead of night though)

there’s something on the doorstep

with slender long claw fingers

a blank stare and no intentions

stooping face fixed on the door

no intentions so you’re fine

deadbolt anyway

foggy vision makes way for

vivid imagination

what good are eyes when

the (depressed) brain takes

over

it’s still on your doorstep

close your eyes and close the blinds

the lights go out but not really

what use have eyes when

imagination takes

over

IT’S STILL ON YOUR DOORSTEP

the mind shuts off but not really

‘the’ mind is hard at work

imagining the thing on the doorstep

the thing in the attic

the thing in the other room

the thing in the closet

the thing under your bed

the thing in your head

[150523]