Same Old Creepy Stuff

by flammeusgladius

Same Old Creepy Stuff

Some held out for a different kind of horror.
Not her: she liked the same old creepy stuff.
Of Dracula she proved a true adorer.
Of ravens she could never get enough.
An alien with skin supremely tough,
a horde of zombies right outside the door:
facing such threats, things could, she knew, get rough.
Delighted nonetheless, she begged for more.
Did pessimists have cosmic crap in store
and existential anguish to convey?
For such dire custom she was not a whore.
World rendered meaningless? She said, “No way.
I’m not a sucker for such vain deception!”
(Lovecraft was here, of course, a clear exception.)

–Tom Riley