Night Things
Night Things
Do the denizens, lad, of the night
Give you many an unwelcome fright?
Are their eerie threats hated?
This reaction was fated
The first time you were sick of the light.
—Tom Riley
Night Things
Do the denizens, lad, of the night
Give you many an unwelcome fright?
Are their eerie threats hated?
This reaction was fated
The first time you were sick of the light.
—Tom Riley
What Really Bites
Well, yes, vampires and werewolves are bad.
Witches destined for burning are sad.
Ghosts may lead you off cliffs
and past troubling as-ifs.
But mosquitoes are deadlier, lad.
—Tom Riley
Rough Terrain
He cycled to the Gates of Hell—
But, past that point, you have to hike.
The numbers of the poor dead swell.
He cycled to the Gates of Hell.
Necessity you can’t dispel.
He had to set aside his bike.
He cycled to the Gates of Hell.
But, past that point, you have to hike.
—Tom Riley
Maleficae
In the cold and the darkness we meet.
Him who rules now we strive to unseat
From his heavenly throne.
Reasons? Those are our own.
Before long, we’ll be feeling the heat.
—Tom Riley
Know the Future
It’s the future you’re aching to know?
We’ll reveal it to you in a show
Of infernal excess.
You’re on board, right? Say yes!
Your enslavement ensues — and not slow.
—Tom Riley
The Apex of Evolution
Is your species tremendous? Hurray
For your species! At work and at play,
It is clearly the best—
But give boasting a rest.
What the devil have you done today?
—Tom Riley
Another Confessional Poetess
Shea says he’s writing verse because he’s “creaky.”
You’d think his inner grease would lubricate
That heart. But then, Shea’s claims are often cheeky.
His blimp-sized self he’s eager to inflate.
His therapeutic aim makes him a mate
To modern poetesses who confess.
Sylvia Plath may be his kind of great—
Or what he’s dimly aping, more or less.
Sylvia Plath I count as no success—
But I won’t let you piss on her, Mark Shea!
Her mind may well have been a sorry mess,
But she was not a fraud. You get away!
Your therapies should never see the light.
You need to stop pretending you can write.
—Tom Riley