Narrative horror poem written 4-22-25. The Beatrice Cycle 4. Content warning: violent imagery, monstrous imagery.
1. I came out of my house, At approximately midnight, It was winter and very dark, But the night was not truly cold I knew immediately, That something was wrong, I heard the sobbing, you see, Or what I thought was sobbing 2. I’m a magician, Oh, not the kind in the movies, Not the kind with magic circles, That keep away demons I do card tricks, You know, illusions, Sleight of hand, Close-up work 3. I like to believe, That every mystery, Has some explanation, If we can just figure it out Every trick has a secret, And if you’re in on it, Then you can just smile, While everyone else wonders 4. That’s what makes me a good cop, No, a great cop, I can always figure out the trick, I can always squint and see the angle I am the best damned detective, Beggar’s Grove has ever seen, Because I never, ever, Take my eyes off the ball 5. So let me tell you, I want to shake the hand, Of whatever illusionist, Created those creatures No monster movie, I’ve ever seen, Could do these things, A shred of justice 6. First I heard that sound, And let me tell you, Just thinking about it, Puts my teeth on edge Like I said, At first I thought, It was sobbing, A repetitive sharp click 7. I pulled my sidearm, And put my head on a swivel, Scanning the night around me, Straining to hear The clicking seemed, To be coming from all around, Every time I would get a bead, The damned things moved 8. I checked my watch, But the damned thing was broken, The numbers made nonsense, Like when you read in a dream I wondered briefly whether, I was actually sleeping, I felt jeopardy all around, But my movements felt sluggish 9. A familiar spike of pain, From my back injury, Brought home that I, Was well and truly awake But that damnable clicking, Was just getting louder, A smell like wet pennies, Hung in the air 10. Then I saw them: Like jackals walking on two legs, With snapping mouths, Too small for their enormous teeth The constant clicking, Came from those giant fangs, As the great jaws opened and closed, Again and again and again 11. They hung low to the ground, With spidery arms, Their earless heads, Were thin and sloping Their legs telescoped out to their sides, Far too long to be contained, Beneath their emaciated bodies, That still seemed frighteningly strong 12. It came to me suddenly, As I watched their crawling skin, Like a billion swarming insects, Crept over them Their long skulls were eyeless, The constant clicking, The constant bouncing echoes, Oh God, the clicking is how they see 13. A low groan rose from the ground, Where the monsters crouched, Those long, long arms dallying, With something between them They were chewing something, I realized what it was and retched, They turned and I felt my disgust sharpen, As they offered me some of my neighbor Carl
Art: Unknown Artist, “The Court Of The Jackal Raja”, (~1870)