Evening is approaching,
heavy clouds no stars tonight.
A door slams shut
the draft is unworldly.
Switch on the table
and try to chase the spooks away
before they crowd your mind!

If they will not be deterred
light your house up
till it is a shopping mall at Christmas time.
Play music, dance and sing,
don’t let them in
they will only replace the sane
with images of horror.

Lumps of gore with eyes and ears,
tiny fingers dripping blood
accusing you of infanticide!
And the spooks will laugh and laugh
when you slowly drown in a bottle of booze.

Alone you will be when spiders,
with infants’ dead faces,
from the ceiling come
and your scream of mercy will go unheard!
The slam you heard was God
leaving by the back door.