POETRY: The Poltergeist by Manny Blacksher


We took almost a week to surmise it was martial drumming in tattoo

twenty feet above their roof. We knew by month’s end other similarly apprised

domestic incidents: wedding service smashed plate-by-plate, sheets ripped off beds

at three am, keys whipped at heads, and faces pressed—mouths gaping, eyeless—

against the window panes in empty rooms. Phantoms, staring hard then gone, distressed

the heavy drapes, which dropped back to rest, much as we neighbors blanched but resumed

our shared surveillance of that uncanny family with whom we’d lived for years,

until these gross disquiets proved our fears that they’d been secret strangers through many

charades of intimacy. Unlike us, supernal evidence revealed,

they’d never been true friends, must have concealed—no, lied about—secrets. That we’d “liked”

them was betrayal of our highest trusts garnered sharing lawns and quiet streets

of quivering elms and mixers, neat floral plots and highballs. Disgust

competed with horror when we’d inspect their toppled chimney stacks, hedgerows flaming

in early morning frost, those shaming indictments cried out by their illicit

subletters. A beldam’s voice screamed us off their property, punctuating obscene

tirades with rattled gasps. Summer-serene banter on verandas choked off

once we heard their soldier’s moaned appeals to his “Darlene.” As promised, he’d got home,

had kept “pure” for her. What must become of him without his love, his soul? We’d feel

in time this family simply did not fit in—property values notwithstanding.

Clearly they noted our contempt’s sting. They turned furtive, went out when they thought

we wouldn’t see. They redoubled efforts in the first blush of being haunted

to make repairs. Specters gallivanted through their savings. The house became a fort

besieged from inside out. The man got old, grew jobless, haggard, unable to make payment.

A mortgage indeed, their long-term debts went not so much under-water as cold

and deep underground. Evicted, they’d haul their troubles with them. We were satisfied

and guilty. The fellows who occupied it next gutted the rooms, razed the drywall

to the roof beams. Redeemed, the house flipped to guileless clones, all smiles and mops of sun-

bleached hair. And still our black fascination with the jettisoned was held tight-lipped

but sacrosanct. When Father strangled in the asylum, Son absconded

to Mexico or Borneo or landed in some shallow grave, we whispered, tangled

in winding sheets of inference. Daughter hooked for heroine, then left the game

in silence for the Carmelites. The name she took was Catherine. Hereafter,

there was Mother’s death. Still so much untold, we gathered at the funeral home, pored

over her coffin’s box of matches, old board, a new planchette, to keep, she’d said, in touch.


Manny Blacksher


Manny Blacksher grew up in Alabama, but has lived for long periods in Montreal and Dublin, Ireland. Over sixty of his poems have appeared in publications that include Poetry Ireland Review, The Guardian’s Online Poetry Workshop, Measure, and The Maynard. His short story, “Des Cruditees,” was published in Blue Monday Review. He is an editor for Light: A Journal of Photography and Poetry.

Visit Manny:


If you enjoyed The Poltergeist leave a comment and let Manny know.





Twenty-four short stories, exclusive afterwords, interviews, artwork, and more.

From Trumpocalypse to Brexit Britain, brick by brick the walls are closing in. But don’t despair. Bulldoze the borders. Conquer freedom, not fear. EXIT EARTH explores all life – past, present, or future – on, or off – this beautiful, yet fragile, world of ours. Final embraces beneath a sky of flames. Tears of joy aboard a sinking ship. Laughter in a lonely land. Dystopian or utopian, realist or fantasy, horror or sci-fi, EXIT EARTH is yours to conquer.

EXIT EARTH includes the short stories of all fourteen finalists of the STORGY EXIT EARTH Short Story Competition, as judged by critically acclaimed author Diane Cook (Man vs. Nature) and additional stories by award winning authors M R Cary (The Girl With All The Gifts), Toby Litt (Corpsing), James Miller (Lost Boys), Courttia Newland (A Book of Blues), and David James Poissant (The Heaven of Animals), and exclusive artwork by Amie Dearlove, HarlotVonCharlotte, CrapPanther, and cover design by Rob Pearce.

Visit the STORGY SHOP here


Unlike many other Arts & Entertainment Magazines, STORGY is not Arts Council funded or subsidised by external grants or contributions. The content we provide takes a lot of time, money and hard work to produce, and relies on the talented authors we publish and the dedication of a devoted team of staff writers. If you enjoy reading our Magazine, help to secure our future and enable us to continue publishing  the words of our writers. Please make a donation or subscribe to STORGY Magazine with a monthly fee of your choice. Your support, as always, continues to inspire.

PayPal-Donate-ButtonSign up to our mailing list and never miss a new short story.

Follow us on:

facebooktwitterinstagrambuttonBOOK REVIEWS

open-book-2FILM REVIEWS

camera-159581_960_720AUTHOR INDEX


icon-microphone-radio-broadcast-singingYour support continues to make our mission possible.

Thank you

6 comments on “POETRY: The Poltergeist by Manny Blacksher”

  1. Pingback: lifecare409772483
  2. Nice work, Manford! There is a sense of roots insidiously weaving deep into an earthen existence on at least a couple of levels. Wow!

    1. Thanks for your compliment, Tracy! I grew up in a ‘historical property’ in a small Southern city. I know from experience how carefully neighbors scrutinize each other’s houses for proofs of respectability and domestic ‘success’. Failing to keep one’s lawn trimmed and house repainted is shameful. A prolonged poltergeist manifestation might bring hordes of Reddit paranormal enthusiasts, but it would be disastrous for a middle-class family’s reputation.

  3. Pingback: JANUARY Round-up!

Leave a Reply