Ech-Pi-El’s: The Thing on the Doorstep


Franklyn Searight

Why do I cringe each time I view,
In anguished memory,
That mess upon my entrance way --
That gross obscenity?
The leaking corpse had lurched and swayed,
Then handed me a note,
While blackened, rotting fingers clutched
Its liquefying throat.
‘Twas Edward Pickman Derby there,
My closest friend, by fate
Ensnared within the foul remains
Of evil Asenath Waite.
Black rites exchanging bodies were
Well known to that vile witch,
So when poor Derby’s vigil ebbed
She’d made the subtle switch.
The Innsmouth wretch now occupied
The body of my chum
And freely strolled the hallways in
The Sanitarium.
I swept the porch, then seized my gun --
A hefty, boyhood gift --
I’d rid the world of Waite this day
With vengeance sure and swift!


© 1999 Edward P. Berglund
"Lovecraftian Cliff Notes for Ech-Pi-El’s: The Thing on the Doorstep": © 1999 Franklyn Searight. All rights reserved.
Graphic © 1999 Erebus Graphic Design. All rights reserved. Email to: James V. Kracht.

Created: August 17, 1999; Updated: August 9, 2004