Demon from Depressed Depths
Horror lurking in the murk, squirting myself through liquid nightmares, paranormal animal portrait
The walls of my bedroom are black, the ceiling navy, ****** sun above me winks in mockery
My friends are few in this frozen almost-society; I wander the briny fog in boredom, purposeless
Eyes swollen from swimming, swallowing so much salt: dehydrated underwater, skin pasty and ill
I hide from starving sharks and their terrible tiny teeth, but duel the diving whale: he I can drown
I can ***** forth literature; the pens of Whitman and Carroll were filled from my blackened innards
From fingertip to toetip I am nearly biggest, in a world without fingers or toes, primitive appendages
I am all knowing: I commune with the dead: I can operate a Ouija board alone with all these arms
I was killed off by Tennyson after just 14 lines, but Lovecraft made me what I am: heathen deity
Wonderful creature, yet I find myself here: battered next to chips in a polystyrene tray: Beach food