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Terror Tales, a Poem by John Grey

Updated: Feb 6, 2022

Terror can't come to the phone right now.

A bomb ate its homework.

It's sorry it missed you

but it had a hard time

getting the sand and the nails

out of its teeth.

Yes, terror is seeing somebody.

Anyone with a cause, preferably religious.

And, of course it works cheap.

And never whines about

the lack of a pension plan.

Yes, terror needs a roof over its head.

So it lives where it can.

And destroys where it can't.

No, I would not call terror

a romantic.

It doesn't sniff flowers

as much as eviscerate them.

And it has no use for art or music.

Not even sex.

But violence has a hallowed place

in its heart.

Come around if you wish

but terror's kind of picky

about whom it hangs with.

It prefers the company

of all who would not

call it terror.


John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Orbis, Dalhousie Review and the Round Table. Latest books, “Leaves On Pages” and “Memory Outside The Head” are available through Amazon.


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