Cthulhu: A Poem

Cthulhu:  A Poem



Lying far below the depths of the ocean blue
lives the creature they call Cthulhu
in the nightmare corpse city of R'lyeh
the place is no luxurious Monty Carlee
as the drunken Englishman called Monte Carlo
as he related this tale to Philip Marlowe
his story of dark gods and the Nemo point
led Marlowe to think he'd been smoking a joint
Said the Englishman, "In the South Pacific depths he lies in wait,
when he rises, he'll open Hell for a gate."
Marlowe felt a chill in this Santa Ana heat
and it wasn't from the fan working an overtime beat
After a while he judged the man's story to be true
but he was just a private eye, what could he do?
"Seems to me," Marlowe lit a cigarette, "you need an exorcist and a mighty powerful one at that,
otherwise we're just mice playing games against a cat."
So the man left Marlowe's office and walked out into the night
he found a bar nearby and regaled patrons there with his tales of fright.




-A poem written by Christopher
 Tuesday November 4th 2014.