Monster Friends

And did you know
my monster friends. No I’m
not being childish.

My tongue is nowhere near
my cheek.

I’m talking about Frankenstein,
who is made of many parts.
He’s coming to terms with a myriad
of past lives in one body.

There’s Dracula, who sucks the life
out of the room, seeps into every
living thing and draws energy.

Then there’s the Phantom. He lingers
in the corner, by himself, behind his
mask. Not sure when to step out.

Should he sing? Maybe not. 

Other questions.
Should we wait for the fish monster
to arrive before eat?

It’s a real drencher out there, but
should that bother him?

Maybe it’s another blonde
he’s caught up with, a "don’t
wait for" message coming through
someone’s silent phone,

a text we will see only too late
in our gloomy castle. 


Tennessee, US

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JD DeHartComment