Voice

Vatican't City Hearse

Vampire State Building

What's that festering Grotesque. Over there in a. Wheelchair, Wheelchair. Stifled in a Straitjacket. Self inflicted Safety pin Wounds, wounds, wounds.

Twitch

Howard Phillips Lovecraft, Heaven knows, had a talent for writing which was of no mean proportion; only what he did with this talent was a shame and a caution and an eldritch horror. if he had only gotten the Hell down out of his auntie's attic and obtained a job with the Federal Writers Project of the WPA, he could have turned out guidebooks that would be classics and joys to read, forever. Only he stayed up there, muffled up to the tip of his long, gaunt New England chin against the cold which lay more in his heart than in his thermometer, living on 19 cents worth of beans a day, rewriting (for pennies) the crappy MSS of writers whose complete illiteracy would have been a boon to all mankind - ah, but life is a boon; and producing ghastly, grisly, ghoulish and horrifying works of his own as well - of man-eating Things which foraged in graveyards, of human/beastie crosses which grew beastlier and beastlier as they grew older, of gibbering shoggoths, and Elder Beings which smelt real bad and were always trying to break through Thresholds and Take Over - rugose, squamous, amorphous nasties, abetted by thin, gaunt New England eccentrics who dwelt in attics and who eventually Never Seen Or Heard From Again. Serve them damn well right, I say..

Trial By Separation

Tower Of Strength

Tower of strength takes to the sea. Scours ocean via quay. Same old story muscle bound and gorey. Brand new story death without glory. Infinite story so new, so hoary.

Time Passing

The Rain

The Psycho Squat

Couldn't stand Dummy+Maddy no More. Thats why I had to go to the Psycho Squat,. Now the Fleas carry blood around my Body. The winning Spiel goes round and Round.

The Pope With No Name

The Only Child

The Old Man Is Not So Terribly Misanthropic

The Loved Dead

The Lovecrafts Were Quarreling

The Horrors In The Museum

The Gardener

In the garden the roses have no thorns,. The growth is steady and quite natural, no parasites, no harm,. Immortal existence, perpetual motion, forever peace and charm..

The Flame Of Insanity

The Enlightened Dreamer

most will fail. and all will die. so none shall live. to tell the tale.

The Dead Loved

The Day The Universe Ceased