Your nightly call
Out with thee
And let me be
To hear your lore
Make your home
With somber tomes
Writ by Poe
As you well know
This poem was inspired by Euphony, by Beverly Crawford
Image source: Wikimedia Commons
Ten years ago, on a whim, I wrote this, recorded it, edited it to tweak the audio and then played the recording in a phone call to a Halloween party that was in progress. In 2010, I finally got around to putting the audio into a video with graphics that I posted on a vlogging site. I hadn’t watched the video in years, so I wasn’t even sure if I still had it. Well, I found it, and I uploaded it to Vimeo. Those original notes are long gone, so I transcribed the audio, and that appears below.
Is Edgar there?
I’m searching for Edgar.
He seems to have wandered off,
and there is no finding him.
His grave marker is toppled,
and the earth is in a ruin.
All of Baltimore is in a fright, a panic.
He is too long interred for something like this to happen,
and he is most definitely gone.
There are reported sightings of him
walking out of the city,
calling for his Annabel Lee.
The city has not heard such a tolling of the bells
since he last walked the streets.
I am calling all of the major metropolitan areas
in the Northeast,
hoping for some news of his whereabouts.
Even a telltale sign.
I know it is unlikely that he could have wandered far
in such a short time, but I do hold out hope.
It’s obvious that you have much revelry there.
Have you, perchance, opened a cask of Amontillado?
You must indeed be wealthy,
if you can afford such a vintage.
A rare vintage.
You are certain that you have not seen Edgar?
He would have a raven on his shoulder.
I have no more time for this.
I must make more calls.
Thank you for your time.