I, Monster: Those who seek vengeance

One. 

I am leftover,

Yesterday’s love sent to

Sleep under the ground

Tomorrow I come for you

Justice made ethereal.

Two.

The wind blew stronger

Baby out with the bathwater,

The body out with haste.

From lantern’s light she calls

But he never answered why.

Three. 

Poisoned earth seeps through

Under her dress and under

Matrimony mattress.

My death is beautiful

My return restless sadness

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.”
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

I, Monster; Halloween Series: One (plus giveaway!)

I am stitched pieces

Of someone else’s insecurity

I grew monstrous, swaddled in ice

Crying out, love me

love me.

Oh mother may I live tonight?

Oh father,

Oh father.

I understand why you have forsaken me.

 

But not why you had to delude me

You twisted the knife in my back.

But father, you know I have the back of 3 men.

I am creation and destruction,

I,

Monster.

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I, Dahmer

(I just didn’t want to be alone)

There’s a man in my fridge and he screams through the night

(don’t leave)

You’re so beautiful I could lay you down across my table and watch you breathe

(please)

Dig my fork into your willing flesh and twist into your soul

(no)

I feel so positively spastic I could scream into the ever waiting audience

(never)

Sometimes you can never get clean.

I promise you  I

(can’t)

Control it

My favourite poems: “Losers” by Carl Sandberg

IF I should pass the tomb of Jonah

I would stop there and sit for awhile;

Because I was swallowed one time deep in the dark

And came out alive after all.

If I pass the burial spot of Nero

I shall say to the wind, “Well, well!”-

I who have fiddled in a world on fire,

I who have done so many stunts not worth doing.

I am looking for the grave of Sinbad too.

I want to shake his ghost-hand and say,

“Neither of us died very early, did we?”

And the last sleeping-place of Nebuchadnezzar-

When I arrive there I shall tell the wind:

“You ate grass; I have eaten crow-

Who is better off now or next year?”

Jack Cade, John Brown, Jesse James,

There too I could sit down and stop for awhile.

I think I could tell their headstones:

“God, let me remember all good losers.”

I could ask people to throw ashes on their heads

In the name of that sergeant at Belleau Woods,

Walking into the drumfires, calling his men,

“Come on, you … Do you want to live forever?”