by John Grey
I’m alone in front of the television
watching a hunchback disinterring bodies
in a misty black and white graveyard.
I’m six years old.
My mother ‘s busy doing dishes.
My big sisters are either in their rooms
or out on dates.
Then some guy in a lab
has this creature all wired up
on a slab,
it’s storming out
and he’s waiting for lightning to strike.
I’m too young to change the channel.
I’m too frightened to turn away.
The monster comes to life,
escapes, and kills a little girl,
maybe my age.
My mother sends me up to bed
before the villagers storm the castle,
destroy the beast and its inventor.
That’s a big mistake on her part.
Many years later
and the beast is still out there somewhere.
John Grey is a writer.
