by Edward Ahern
Die Creatures Die
Our ancestor’s creations- trolls and elves, witches and vampires
Suited for eras of privies and kings, and light from candles,
not device screens.
Now we blend the features of creatures into movie granola and munch
But for us interconnected, Mr. Gruesome looks and tastes
like comic book paper.
We need new creatures to help us scream, not werewolves,
that’s just gross.
We need vicious imogis that crouch behind our screens
and frustrate gratification.
For the spoiled are never satisfied and need to personalize
When I quit drinking alcohol,
I had my choice of waters.
Caffeinated waters prompting insomnia,
spring waters from hydro burial sites,
tap waters from fishy reservoirs,
flavored waters with micro plastics,
carbonated waters with assured belch,
sweetened waters facilitating decay,
and river waters nurturing giardia.
A munificent range of hazardous bland
primed to be excreted.
Ed Ahern sometimes detours into literary fiction, but he’s best known as an innovative genre writer and poet. He’s tucked away several awards and honorable mentions for seventy-seven short stories, sixty published poems and three books. The stories have appeared in ten countries and, counting reprints, a hundred fifty-nine publications. And he started writing fiction at sixty-seven, and poetry at seventy.
His editorial skills are based on a degree in journalism from the University of Illinois and extensive experience at the Providence Journal. He has his original wife, but advises that after almost fifty years together they are both out of warranty. Two children and five grandchildren serve as affection focus and money drain.