Brown Jenkin in Threes

 In three hours’ time Brown Jenkin will show

Though none have asked for him

He comes to those who claw at air

Who swim through walls

Who search for whim

Who do not know he’s of their dimming

Existential glow.

In three hours’ time Keziah will go

And he will creep about

Beyond the slanting doorways

Into doubts and

Droughts and fiery forays

All the hopes that human mourning

Ne’er could live without.

We will leave the witching house

And find our gods turned over

Come across a three-pronged path

Where Nyarlothotep hovers

We will find strange family

In libraries of guilt

We will kill one monster son

Where triplet blood is spilt

And in three hours, the triptych done,

Brown Jenkin will appare

And all the hearts with human blood

Will pump a tad more quare.