Dinner at Eight with Edgar (for Speakeasy Challenge #132)


“Dinner at Eight with Edgar”

Soon twilight falls upon my feeble head.

Mid thun`drous howl, my weather-vane is heard.

The wind doth force his wings; he flies,  instead

into my spacious den and there he stirs.

He harkens not to my sad tale of woe.

I’m punished by the massive oaken leg

of table as I stumble , screaming so:

“Oh, God is there no mercy for my head?”

This bird is mute with no compassion heard.

No! senseless to my cry,  he ‘ner complains.

Continues with his game of spin_ absurd;

malevolent! (As one who is insane?)

But quoth my muted  bird, no “Nevermores”.

He squeaks in need of basting as he churns.

He’s burnt;  rotisseried from all that sun.

Though, roasting of this fowl not his by choice,

it is to dinner now we best adjourn.

My dining table laid with Usher’s spleen,

  we carve this gallinaceous vertebrate!

But he escapes!  my solitary, baleful bird.

“Metallic taste of hardened skin!” is heard as guests take  flight.

The knife clatters to the ground and a scream pierces the night.

220px-Tenniel-TheRaven

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7 Comments on “Dinner at Eight with Edgar (for Speakeasy Challenge #132)”

  1. pileofbabies
    October 22, 2013 at 7:22 pm #

    Love the reference to The Raven!

    Like

  2. jannatwrites
    October 23, 2013 at 2:33 am #

    I enjoyed reading this….so many great lines!

    Like

    • jacquelinecaseypoetry
      October 23, 2013 at 3:01 am #

      Thank you. I have a question for you. Did you realize that the character was trying to cook his weather-vane bird for dinner? Did I make that clear? Just curious if reader understood…

      >________________________________

      Like

      • jannatwrites
        October 23, 2013 at 4:21 am #

        The references to the peg leg, the game of spin, and rotisseried by the sun, point to the weather vane. I wasn’t sure about how it ended up undercooked in the end, though.

        Like

      • jacquelinecaseypoetry
        October 23, 2013 at 1:40 pm #

        Yeah, my assumption that the reader will realize everyone in the poem is totally nuts anyway may not come across. Otherwise how do you roast a metal, swirling weathervane for dinner? I guess I was hoping everyone would see the story as a “Mr. Magoo” thing. If you have any ideas as to how I could make my story a bit clearer, would appreciate your feedback. Thanks, Jackie

        >________________________________

        Like

  3. camgal
    October 23, 2013 at 5:01 am #

    That was definitely a spin. Nice one.

    Like

  4. Natalie DeYoung
    October 24, 2013 at 4:29 pm #

    Love the Poe adaptation. 🙂

    Like

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