Clyde T. Kessler's poetry has appeared
in publications such as Free Zone Quarterly and Kota. He lives
in Radford, Virginia. This poem is part of a series he calls "Goblintown: Poems for
ghosts and the children of ghosts."
is designed and edited by Lucy A. Snyder.
If you spot any errors, or if you have any comments,
please contact her at email@example.com.
All materials copyright 1996-2001 by their respective
creators. No stories, articles, poems or images from this webzine may be
posted or published without the written consent of their creator(s).
by Clyde T. Kessler
I came home with a ghost.
It was a bluish, fire-eyed neighbor
ready for wars. It crouched and smiled
with its tendril hands smoldering.
It peered into an old gift, a prickly pear
that had a shriveled flower. It sat
like a blue shoat with some seed corn.
I told it some lies, and it told me the like,
then said I could learn to haunt while I lived,
and I smiled too, haunting these words.