Necromancer, by Mary Soon Lee
First published in HWA Poetry Showcase, Volume II.
Ven spoke and dead men heard him.
Ven spoke and rich men paid.
Silver to pass the dead a message;
gold to know what they replied.
Ven feasted, drank, fucked girls
before an audience of ghosts.
A year, two years, and then it palled;
he tired of gold, of limber flesh.
He cut girls, cut boys, killed.
Nothing answered, nothing thrilled.
He corrupted scholars, raised bones,
demanded: “What pleasured you?”
In the tombs of a fallen empire,
the dust whispered: _Demon fire.
The darkness striding through the town
was once a man, but now is not.
Afire, each man, each woman, each child,
each scorched scream fresh, fabulous.
Their thoughts, terrors, torments
unfolding in his mind: tangible, tasty.
A flaring feast that briefly fills
the darkness striding through the town.
Mary Soon Lee was born and raised in London, but now lives in Pittsburgh. She has won the Elgin Award and the Rhysling Award for her poetry. Of late, she has been working on The Sign of the Dragon, an epic fantasy presented in poetry. A dozen poems from the epic may be read at http://www.thesignofthedragon.com