In The Mountains Of Madness Poem by Stan Petrovich

In the Mountains of Madness
There is one, and only one, large outdoor cafeteria.
It lies between frozen lava lakes and soft sandy peaks.
From the patio
One may glimpse the desert far below,
And the distant sea.
The desert is wrought with black outlines of giant monkeys, runways and cosmonauts.
It never rains there,
So the patterns remain distinct,
As they were for viewing from the aeroplanes of the Second Century.

If one sits at the cafe in the Mountains of Madness,
Sipping espresso after espresso,
The wild fury of H.P. Lovecraft invades the mind,
As it begins to snow.
The snow gathers in the small cups,
Being only the dandruff of the fallen gods.