Funsucker
What a teacher you have, little one!
You sit still — and she makes your heart run
till it’s ready to burst.
Oh, her smile is accursed!
She’s an unstinting vampire of fun.
–Tom Riley
Way Too Hot
Dear guest: it’s evident you’re one of us.
We keep it way too hot for human life
here in our home. You’re grinning fiercely. Thus,
dear guest, it’s evident: you’re one of us,
attached to what resents the verminous
and temporary flesh. No need for strife,
dear guest:it’s evident you’re one of us.
We keep it way too hot for human life.
–Tom Riley
Nonny’s Halloweens
(in memoriam P.S.R.)
“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!”
You liked The Exorcist but not The Omen.
You made with the discriminating taste
even, Mom, when the Devil was the showman.
Fraud was amongst the many facts you faced.
But, if the mask was well and truly placed
before a little face intent on fun,
you passed the candy out. As monsters raced
around the bend, you smiled to see them run.
To your excessively-cerebral son,
you explained Dracula — and got it right.
As literate back then as anyone,
you heard them call, the children of the night.
You really loved your Halloweens: it’s true.
That’s something I inherited from you.
–Tom Riley
The Phantom of the Opera (Short Version)
Deformed Erik wants Christine Daié—
And he spirits her slyly away.
Normal folks interfere—
And his hopes disappear.
An ungrateful young chippy, I say!
–Tom Riley
Ghost Stories of an Antiquary
In his scholarly world, M.R. James
unearthed spirits with terrible names
that should never be uttered.
Oxford dons shrank and sputtered.
Tell yourself they were just playing games.
–Tom Riley
The Innsmouth Look
A batrachian fellow named Fred
filled his neighbors with loathing and dread.
Their discomfort grew dire.
They expressed righteous ire.
Fred just shrugged. “I’m from Innsmouth,” he said.
–Tom Riley
The great vampire king’s previous shape
was revised. Movie fans just went ape.
The Hungarian voice
made girls faint — and rejoice.
He was buried, of course, in his cape.
–Tom Riley
The Doors of Perception
(for Denise Beshaw)
Wine indeed may be good for your ticker.
If you’re sick, you may cease to get sicker
when you down your Chablis.
But, to understand me,
readers need to resort to hard liquor.
–Tom Riley
Army of the Dead
They are coming, the skeletal crew.
When they reach your flesh, what will they do?
They can’t eat you: that’s clear.
They have no stomachs here!
See: the dead know futility, too.
–Tom Riley
Magister Definitus
The Master is defined by the effects
That he eschews. His limits free his soul
To march ahead, Imperator et Rex,
And aspire to an unimagined goal
In his imagination. Does the whole
Denounce him as an unimportant part?
Well, let it! He does not accept his role.
He crushes definitions with his art.
The Master doesn’t think that he is smart.
He swallows smartness as a python does
A rat. The workhorse stands behind the cart
Puzzled. Is this the barnyard, folks, that was?
And all who dared to be at liberty
Are bound in chains that never had to be.
–Tom Riley
(First appeared in Blue Unicorn, v. 38, n.1, October 2014)
Flammeus Gladius 