he wrote
horror story
after horror story
the King
of horror stories

until the horror
woke up to what
he was doing
let the
scales fall
off its eyes

stood up, slithered
into the city
stood for congress, parliament,
reichstag, senate

got elected

and then the horror
was on the radio
television in
the streets

in his street
at his door

came to take him away
drag him from his desk
where he was still
writing story
after story

with each story
the horror that much sharper,
that tiny little bit so
quintessentially better

the best one of all
raging in his mind as the
cell door closed