Another domestic poem, born out of nothing more than strange noises regularly heard at night outside my window in the very office where I now sit.  The poem’s approach owes a great debt to the wonderful ending of Thomas Ligotti’s horror story “Nethescurial,” which is why I eventually dedicated the poem to him. As luck would have it, I actually got to show the poem to Ligotti himself, and he dug it and told me he felt honored. So I suppose I can die gruesomely happy.

(Read and hear the poem here.)

Tags: The Journey to Kailash sampler
Posted in Poetry, The Journey to Kailash