The Prank Caller by Ken Stroebel

This is a bit of dark poetry that appeared in Issue #9 of Fangoria.  I thought it was quite good, so I wanted to share it with you.  If anyone out there knows who Ken Stroebel from Merril, MI is, please let me know!  I'd love to chat with him.

"A body, A body!"
  The voice cried in vain,
Out on your lawn,
  In the cold pouring rain."

A morning search showed
  No sign of the dead
"Twas a prank caller indeed,"
  The angered man said.

The phone rang again
  The next morning at three,
The same eerie caller,
  The same eerie plea;

"A body!  A body!"
  The voice cried in vain,
"Out on your lawn,
  In the cold pouring rain."

"Now look here," he said
  "This calling must cease!
If it happens again,
  I shall phone the police!"

For days it continued,
  Each morning at three
The eerie voice groaning
  The same eerie plea;

"A body!  A body!"
  The voice cried in vain,
"Out on your lawn,
  In the cold pouring rain."

The ninth time it happened
  The man went insane,
He threw down the phone
  And ran out in the rain.

Across the green lawn,
  Out into the road,
Shouting and screaming
  In the wet morning cold.

"There's no body here!
  Now leave me alone!
Stay out of my life
  And stay off of my phone!"

Around the dark corner
  The speeding car came.
It flew out of nowhere
  And went just the same.

It shattered his bones
  With thrift and with flair.
It hurled his limp body
  High into the air.

In the silence of dawn
  He lay in the rain
Ready to die,
  Writhing in pain.

He could hear someone speaking;
  He remembered to phone.
From inside the house
  He heard someone groan;

"A body!  A body!"
  The voice cried in vain,
"Out on your lawn,
  In the cold pouring rain."