Fri
Dec 4 2009 2:00pm

I Speak Fluent Giraffe: Nyarlathotep, I’m Breaking Up with You

Nyarlathotep, Brian Elig

Nyarlathotep, I’m Breaking Up with You

I know that it’s pretty rude to break up with someone on a blog, but since you won’t return my calls and I am like going insane and stuff and I figure I might as well tell anyone out there who is listening. And my therapist says poetry is cathartic, so there’s some of that, too.

I remember when we hooked up it was during the election when everyone was all intense politically and everyone was like “I’m a Democrat” or “I’m a Republican” and you were all, “I dig the flute.” And I thought, OK, that’s kinda goofy, but at least it’s different.

I once thought you were so exotic
tall and swarthy and erotic
but now I see you’re just despotic,
creepy-crawly and chaotic.

You said you were like from Egypt and I was all, “Oh, how cool.” Even though I was thinking, like, I know a guy from Egypt. His name is Abdul. That’s a real name. I mean, Nyarlathotep? Dude, how made up is that? But love blinded me to the stupidness of your name. Or deafened me. Whatever.

Nyar-Nyar, Teppy
names I called out
on hot autumn nights
spent in sweet tangles
and so many angles.
Now these endearments
make me want
to spew.
And the same is true
when I hear the Bangles.

And like, everywhere we went, you had to bring all your friends. At first I was like, wow, he’s so popular. But then I saw your entourage for what it really is. Brain-dead suck-uppy brown-noses, every last one of them. Totally under your spell. I was all, “Am I dating you, or your freaking minions?”

My therapist says you’re probably insecure
and that’s why you seek to control.
Actually,
that’s what my therapist
says about me,
and that I project too much.
But I bet it’s the same for you.

Thursday night was the last straw. I got all dressed up, for nothing. We were supposed to go out, just you and me, to a nice restaurant, but where do we go? Hanging around old railroad tracks at night with you and your monkey-boys—I swear they’re a bunch of tweakers and you probably run a meth lab or something, Nyarlathotep—and then it starts snowing and do you offer me your coat? Take me home? No, your little entourage like starts up a drum circle and you whip out your flute.

How did I ever put up with that flute?
I wanted to smash in your face with each squeak
I swear if you play it again I will shoot.
and I’ll laugh as I throw your remains in a creek.
With sharks in it.

And that’s why we’re through, Nyar-ass-lath-fake-ho-Jethro Tull-tep.
I swear, all you ever wanted was to drive me crazy!

But I will be stronger than that. I will not be your slave!

So, anyway, if you read this, call me.


Illustration by Brian Elig.
(Click on image above to see at full scale.)

For more, see the I Speak Fluent Giraffe Index.

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This article is part of December Belongs To Cthulhu: ‹ previous | index | next ›
13 comments
Maria Alexander
1. MariaAlexander
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Complete with flauting! LOVE IT!
Aimee Stewart
2. Foxfires
"Nyar-ass-lath-fake-ho-Jethro Tull-tep."

HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CWL!! (Crying with laughter)
Penny Bloom
3. Penny Bloom
That was delightfully bizarre. Good job.

Penny

P.S. Sounds like you're better off without the Toot with the Flute.
Irene Gallo
4. Irene
This series (yes, there will be more) has been a blast to work on - thank you Jason and Brain.

Everyone - Click on the art above to see Brian Elig’s work in more detail.
Thom Ryng
8. thomryng
Outstanding. As always.

I about fell off my chair.
Penny Bloom
10. Sihaya
That was awesome.
Stefan Raets
11. Stefan
Put more stuff like this in a book, so I can buy it
Penny Bloom
12. JAPartridge
I think I lost sanity just reading this. Still it was awfully awesome.
C.D. Thomas
14. cdthomas
Um, there's no other place for this, but:

There's a special guest appearance by this month's subject on tonight's VENTURE BROS.

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