POETRY BY RANDY STREU

Randy Streu is a voice actor and poet living in Northeast Wisconsin with his wife, kids, and cats. His work can be found in Belladonna’s Garden, Pulsebeat, and Third Wednesday. 

SEANCE

She is something like a color a shade
less than white, she is
a thought scratched on a door post,

a dream of a memory within
a whisper, she is
sorrow hiding under the skin,

existence without form built
under the foundation, she is
the cold inside a warm room,

a scream unheard, a breeze
and a flickering candle:
she is.

THE DREAM

I watch myself as a young child
seeking a hiding place
from blank-eyed children—

their innocence has been defiled
by something with no name
who comes unbidden.

And as I watch, this younger me
finds shelter in a store
lined with ancient wares

for respite from this fearful thing
whatever it may be—
and those eyeless stares.

And, hiding there among the clothes
and trinkets of the past,
he believes he’s safe—

until the little shop bell tolls:
the demon dances in
with uncanny grace.

A mask of hatred in her eyes
belies her countenance—
for she smiles so sweet;

and calling, searching for her prize—
another young one’s soul
so that she may eat.

And he—or I—duck down in fright,
recoiling from this thing—
this soul-eater who

sings in a voice of eerie light:
“please hurry; the children
are waiting for you.”

CLOWN CAR

It’s not that you’ve been
following me for the last
two miles and three turns—

there are only so many
places to go
at this time of night—

but why is a clown
staring at me from
the passenger seat,

grin wider than his neck,
hood pulled over his
cotton candy hair?

And why hasn’t he moved
since you pulled out
behind me?