The December Featured Poet is Brian James Lewis
Please feel free to email Brian at: skullsnflames500@gmail.com
DOWN IN THE SAND
Something is wrong with me inside
No one gets out of here alive
The world is stomping on my brain
While my body screams a song of pain
No one really understands the whole show
What evil lurks? Only the Shadow knows
Don’t touch me, I’m about to explode!
Shooting body parts all over the road
If these pills don’t touch the pain
Maybe this cheap whiskey will
If the pills won’t stop this horrible pain
Maybe this magic mojo weed will
If nothing works, you’ll never see me again
Hey corporate insurance attorneys
Keep your bad judgment to yourself
That’s not your insurance money
All I’m asking for is a little bit of help
Driving my car in the sweet, dark night
Don’t you dare move ‘til I’m out of sight
I played by the rules but you won’t let me win
The way you cheat us is a low down sin
Something is wrong with me inside
But you keep claiming that it’s a lie
So I guess you had to learn firsthand
They’ll find your body down in the sand
Nothing worked, so you’ll never see me again
UNDER THE BOARDWALK
Under the boardwalk
The creatures wait their turn
When the lonely walk the wood
and the night is dark
With no more sound
than a rustle of sand
creatures slide along board
bottoms until they’re no longer…
Under the boardwalk
A woman screams too late
Soon she will be stripped
of all her nutritious flesh
But she is just one
and they have way too many
Hungry mouths to feed
Always wanting more. More!
Under the boardwalk
are thick piles of bones
Like the catacombs under Paris
But this is Atlantic City
Home of the Jersey Devil
and his minions of the night
that work hard while he sits cool
at gaming tables inside the casinos
Under the boardwalk
Is where his victims die after accepting
the Devil’s invitation to smoke a cigar
and talk about a “very small” cash loan
No one gives him a second look
when he returns without his new friend
Never to be found again after feeding
some of the Devil’s children
Under the boardwalk
there are still hungry mouths crying
So the Devil rolls the dead man’s dice
in his pocket and heads back for another
Chance to win at whatever is hot
Be it blackjack, craps or a spin
of the roulette wheel on 66 red
Where he lets it ride all night
Under the boardwalk
Is where you’ll find me
Because I foolishly took a loan
that I had to pay for with my soul
Along with the work I do for him
Trapped below the oily, stinking wood
that you’re standing on right now
Don’t be like me, or you’ll be…
Under the boardwalk
There’s always room for one more
Your body gets eaten, bones broken
Money grabbed and soul stolen
Misery loves company
The Devil takes care of his own
All sinners are welcome to join us
and fill in our wall of bones
Brian James Lewis is a disabled poet, writer, and book reviewer who feels that writing is as important as breathing. He is a member of the SFPA and has been reviewing dark poetry and speculative fiction since 2016. First published in 2014, Brian writes daily on vintage typewriters, including one previously owned by Rod Serling.
Check him out on Twitter@skullsnflames76 and visit his website HERE