Brown Jenkin in Threes
In three hours’ time Brown Jenkin will show
Though none have asked for him
He comes to those who claw at air
Who swim through walls
Who search for whim
Who do not know he’s of their dimming
Existential glow.
In three hours’ time Keziah will go
And he will creep about
Beyond the slanting doorways
Into doubts and
Droughts and fiery forays
All the hopes that human mourning
Ne’er could live without.
We will leave the witching house
And find our gods turned over
Come across a three-pronged path
Where Nyarlothotep hovers
We will find strange family
In libraries of guilt
We will kill one monster son
Where triplet blood is spilt
And in three hours, the triptych done,
Brown Jenkin will appare
And all the hearts with human blood
Will pump a tad more quare.