The eldritch ironed its edges every dusk,
so to make the right impression at each dinner party.
With its ubiquitous entrance, the crowd stopped
while the chill crept up their spines.
The new guest dropped the temperature like a new dance move,
and shimmied throughout the crowd.
The other guests shifted and wiggled as ghostly fingers
traced lines along shoulder blades and collar bones.
The host cries out seance, and this chic wraith knew time for its performance.
It shook out the wrinkles and cleared its throat, so when the candles were lit
and danced in the people’s eyes; it would be ready to carry on its destiny.
So when the host finished their chant, and the crowd slouched in fear,
this designer spirit waited until each person relaxed.
After the last sigh of relief, the eldritch would slam its fist on the table
and the gang jumped to their feet. The apparition
wanted them all to dance, so jumped on the table and stomped out
a new story of hard feet and quick beats.
The herd screamed and scurried, and the eldritch started to laugh
until it howled and boomed in the room.
It watched them all scatter in sparks of glitter and elegance,
and in a finale, the eldritch lifted the candles and twirled the flames,
then crashed them together into fireworks, and it watched
the crowd’s shadows disappear into the cracks.
Poetic Trials 