Dad always said Satan and his demons were real.

This must be where they wait for kids

who complain about Sunday School.


Cobwebs whisper us on our way.

Our doom buggy spins us to face

a breathing door, its handle rattled


by hands of heaven-knows-what.

Down the way, something thumps,

and the hall lengthens to somewhere


we could never run to the end of.

The serial bride with pounding heart

begs us to be her next guest.


I’ll read my Bible every day,

spread the Good News.

We slide downstairs into the singing cemetery.


The spirits are waltzing.

Yes, Jesus, I hear you

knocking at the door of my heart.

Carol Everett Adams writes poems about Disney theme parks, organized religion, UFOs, and other topics. She lives in the Midwestern United States and works in the tech industry. Her poems have been published in Avalon Literary Review, California Quarterly, Crack the Spine, Euphony, FRiGG, Ghost City Review, Hawaii Pacific Review, The MacGuffin, The New York Quarterly, Owen Wister Review, Pennsylvania English, Quercus Review, Soundings East, Sweet Tree Review, The Virginia Normal, and others. She earned her MFA in Writing from the University of Nebraska. You can connect with her at