I had to buy some inspiration
the well had run dry
the go-to stash was Poe in macabre navy blue
an old print, just a fancy cover to make it new
the pages crisp as fresh twenty dollar bills
the little red ribbon bookmark starched
like my father’s old button-on collars.
There goes the ramparts of the House of Usher!
How about Walt Disney building a replacement
for Sleeping Beauty’s castle?
All creaking floorboards
and weeping wallpaper, with animatronic
Ethelred slaying giant dragons of plastic
and copper tick-tock gears!
But maybe uncle Walt wouldn’t do that
there in stuffy old Anaheim
maybe it could be done somewhere on…MARS.
Not just for fun, but because Poe was banned
We burned his books, burned out his memory
all that’s left are craggy daguerreotypes
left in the 19th century.
Too many PTA ladies pissing themselves over
afraid of mustachioed madmen courting their
consumption ravaged cousins.
No, it’s Mars for the house that Usher built
stinking in a marsh, as unholy horrors decimate
the book burners, taking pages from the fiction