POETRY BY JAMES AMBUEHL

FOLLOWING IN PICKMAN'S FOOTSTEPS ...

I sat alone, pawing through manuscript and tome,
For works influenced by the painter;
By Richard Upton Pickman, was he known --
His works made the masses grow fainter.
Yet something lying beneath it all,
Hints of an elder kindred race;
You see, these legends seemed to call
Upon me, to take my rightful place.

Yet resist them I surely will,
'Til this life I've had my fill;
I know I cannot shun
The light -- I love the sun!
Yet I know it's a losing battle
This fight that I must carry
On, as my mind wanders, idle:
"Where's the nearest cemetery?"

And I fear not the dreams my searches brung me.
No! The true horror is ... now I'm hungry!
And not for any common fare, easily gotten --
I long for something long-dead, and rotten!

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Created: October 28, 2006