Doyle Netzly

It's not easy being an Elder God,
much less their ruler.

While it's nice laying about in R'lyeh
being attended by the Deep Ones,
the fact of the matter is that they're not too bright.
They feed me too well, even though I tell them
to ease up, I need to lose a few tons.

I ask them to be discrete, but they keep popping up
around the entire New England seaboard,
scaring villagers; and the interbreeding!
Ponape was just right for them, just those half-crazy Polynesians
and an occasional fishing boat would spot them cavorting in the waves;
no one would ever really make too much fuss about it.

I think the upstart Nyarlathotep and
the unchaste Shub-Niggurath have designs on my reign.
He is much too too clever, and she is always embroiled in
some Machiavellian plot or other,
usually to the detriment of the other Elder gods.

But what really yanks my tentacles are these mortals!
That pale misogynist from Providence started it:
Cthulhu dolls, books with titles like "Milking Cthulhu",
games, and all manner of such novelties;
you'd think I'd care, maintaining my vast
lumbering suboceanic indifference,
but it's simply not dignified.

I think I'll send them all some very bad dreams indeed!
But only after I rest a bit longer.


© 2006 Edward P. Berglund
"Cthulhu's Complaint": © 2006 Doyle Netzly. All rights reserved.
Graphics © 1998-2006 Erebus Graphic Design. All rights reserved. Email to: James V. Kracht.

Created: October 28, 2006