Poe and Lovecraft Meet in Providence, 1909

Here's an illustration I did of Edgar Allen Poe (one of my favorite writers). My husband, Steve, wrote a poem to go along with it. It was nice to collaborate. Hope you enjoy!

©Lesley Breen Withrow

Poe and Lovecraft Meet in Providence, 1909

By Steven Withrow

The Athenaeum’s doors were locked 

For after hours. The idled ghosts

Of Model T’s at hitching posts

Resembled resting mares. They’d walked

Down separate steps, from different gates,

Alarumed out of iron sleep

By bells, an interview to keep,

A night’s commingling of their fates.

The Athenaeum’s reading room

Was dark, the hooded lamps lit low,

And Lovecraft, young still, begged of Poe,

“What eldritch summoning of doom,

What cosmic rite, has fetched you here?

I’d passed out, my new poem complete,

And soon awoke on Angell Street!”

He leaned in, offered Poe his ear.

The pale anachronism shook

His wild-haired—was it eyeless?—head,

A forceful gesture for the dead,

And fingered toward a black-bound book

That lingered on a higher shelf,

Its spine read Necronomicon,

And Lovecraft stood, but Poe was gone.

He’d face the grimoire by himself.