This poem was singled out by the editors of the "World's Best Fantasy and Horror" anthologies.
Jeffrey Dahmer
Death is a little pinprick. Just a jab.
Nothing to fear. No suffering. No pain
Compared to the stern, stupefying stab
Of loneliness. Some acid to the brain
Will melt away that lingering abhorrence;
Then, all at once, by fiat from above,
Transcendence; for we'll taste tempestuous torrents
Of desire. For you, eternal love;
For me, mere transience; for I consume
And what was beautiful becomes old bones
And flesh, and rots in a suburban room,
While your response to my perfervid moans
Is not to speak at all. Oh stay, oh stay --
Not like the rest -- True love does not decay!
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Reviews of "excerpt from "Sonnets About Serial Killers""
Reviewed by ***** ********* (Reader)
Reviewed on July 17, 2003
Excellent poetic narrative, stylish, a wonderfully tight and concise reflection on fear, lonliness, transcendence and the ever-present shadow of looming anonymous death! Great work!
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
Maria