POETRY BY FRANKLYN SEARIGHT

LOVECRAFTIAN CLIFF NOTES FOR

Ech-Pi-El’s: Cool Air

No longer am I neighborly --
It isn't where I'm at --
Since meeting Dr. Munoz who
Lived just above my flat.
Incense and spices, chemicals,
Defiled the reeking air
That barely circulated in
The doc's disgusting lair.
Machinery kept his rooms so chilled
That guests would nearly freeze;
He needed cold at least as low
As fifty-five degrees.
Munoz believed titanic "will"
Could make a dead man talk,
And, long as organs stayed intact,
He'd even think and walk!
'Twas eighteen years ago he'd died
And, cause it felt so nice,
Had daily bathed in water chilled
By blocks of floating ice.
He should have sought the polar climes,
And there, in frost and snow,
Lived happy and contented like
A frigid Eskimo!

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Created: March 12, 1999; Updated: August 9, 2004