I’ve never got into monsters, spooks, and the likes
Life is hard enough without inventing such things.
Like being shot at over Korea, or the screeching tires
of your oldest son’s last moments, the curses and screaming
rage of your father…these are monsters enough.
Category: Monsters
Various revisions of this poem written in honor of my dad.
I never got into monsters
I’ve never got into monsters, spooks, and the likes
Life is hard enough without inventing such things.
Like being shot at over Korea, or the screeching tires
of your oldest sons’ last moments, the curses and screaming
rage of your father…these are monstrous enough
For this old man.
I never got into monsters
I never got into monsters, spooks, and the likes. Life is full enough of such things to live with the phantom fears of fictions. Shadows of trees, the screeching of tires, maledictions of screaming rage. Anxious regret and their slow plodding uncertainty.
No I have no need for monsters, spooks, and the likes—what I have seen is much worse. What I have seen is scarier, and real.
I’ve never got into monster, and I don’t understand why people would, life being intrinsic with fear, and rage, and uncertainty.
But if that’s what does it for you than I hold no drudge. I just don’t see the allure—I never got into monsters, spooks, and the likes.