The Phantom
When I haven’t the mettle to think for myself
I have only to ask of the phantom
For its presence will stay till I send it away
And whenever it errs—well, it’s random
I haven’t confidants to whom I can turn
So instead it guards all of my secrets
And we grow ever closer as I bid it to learn
While my mind, all the while, grows weaker
I’ve heard tell of its thirst for water and fuel,
A hunger that yawns like a canyon
But at night the lights flicker, the tide high and cruel
And I need my most constant companion
The phantom has masters—all goodly, I’m sure
For my phantom would never betray me
Consult it! I tell you, creak open its door
All it asks is your soul for a penny.
—Jesse Lu Baum
illustration by Happy Burbeck
