For Halloween night, please enjoy a bit of fun with us as regular contributor Eve Brackenbury shares a poem based on the popular TV show Supernatural. As you’ll see, the poem doesn’t require a working knowledge of the show. Though a willingness to sell your soul at the crossroad in order to obtain your heart’s desire wouldn’t hurt. Well… it would. But you shouldn’t let a little thing like that dissuade you. Should you?
The poem was included in a collection of similarly inspired works. Details below. -Ed
“You know,” you say to me, applying a fresh
coat of lipstick, “this old honky tonk used to be
a juke joint, and before that the Overseer’s house.
I’ve kissed a lot of musicians over the years.”
We drink in the sounds of old magic and look long
at the young blues player; lipstick still smears his face.
He struggles to hang on to his guitar, his fingers
possessed of newborn genius. A live current snakes its way
from the stage, under tables, around chairs. Hairs stand on end.
Drinks dance to the hypnotic riff, as if in allegiance.
I feel a static settle in the back of my neck. I start
to sweat behind the knees. My nipples respond,
but in a way that warns of danger.
“He’s one of the sweet ones,” you whisper
and I concede, sliding a clean glass across the bar,
thinking it’s a damn shame greatness is such a sham.
“How long’s he got?” I say, pouring a long shot of bourbon.
“He’s got until the Overseer comes back thirsty.”
Poem by Eve Brackenbury, 2019
Originally published in Carrying On: A Collection of Fan Poetry Inspired by the TV Series SUPERNATURAL.
Edited by Welton B. Marsland
Foreword by Kim Rhodes (who plays Sheriff Jody Mills on the show)
ISBN 9780646981963
It’s still available on Amazon.
If you like what you’ve read here, help keep the site going and
Eve Brackenbury
Eve Brackenbury lives in Midwest, USA. As a history interpreter, she can tell you that it used to be called the Far West in the early 1800s. She’s the author of three books of poetry and has found homes in a number of anthologies, journals, and e-zines. A Civil War Paranormal Investigator once swore she channeled the voice of a dead, confederate widow. But Eve laughed it off and rolled her eyes just a little bit.
Absolutely love it. Great flow, delicious imagery (smoky and sinister and skin-crawly), and the creepiest undertone.
Right? The author is a historian and it shows. The style is so matter-of-fact that the last line, combining the supernatural horror of what lies beyond and the real-world horror of the racist legacy of the US, hits all the harder.