poems for monsters

Poems for Monsters #8: Grimace

Hello burger lovers –
Have we got a surprise
For you. Grimace –

Our lovable mascot –
Has come to play.
So smile as Grimace goes by.

And – we cannot
emphasize this enough –
do not move

or sip your drinks or speak
above a whisper. Do not whimper
when Grimace goes by.

Quiet your babies, think
softly – picture a meadow
when Grimace goes by.

Avoid his shadow.
Plug your ears.
When Grimace leaves

The staff will come by
to dispose of your food
and give you a Happy

Meal, with a smile.

Poems for Monsters #7: The Wasteland Mutant

Bad news kid: we've propagated your wavefront
into the worst future yet. We tried
for paradise, maybe some place
with long summers and access to a beach,

but nope, it's your standard wasteland -
piles of slag, old bones of homes,
the whole Earth a dried dingleberry
dangling from the Sun. Meanwhile

you slouch along bearing classic mutant signs: pustules,
mad eyeballs buzzing in sockets, teeth
like a dropped deck of cards, tattered brown tunic,
brain devouring its carrion of days.

Somewhere up ahead beyond the fortified malls
a girl maybe runs barefoot, or rock shelves
shelter clear water - who knows?
We're shutting down
the machines and moving on to the next universe. Good luck.

Poems for Monsters #6: The Borg

Data come down and seduce
these Borg away

they’re building a colony
on the corner lot

and I know I shouldn’t

but what the hell? Their house
is a giant metal cube

They ruin every barbecue
with their folk songs

and have you smelled a Borg on a hot day?

They say their connections
corrode in a bath

but really
Data come down

and decode their molecular desires
into dumb atoms

We’ve been lost
ever since they came

Poems for Monsters #3: Zombies

Attention all staff
Please stop with the shopping cart
zombie races

Shoppers have complained
of finding zombie pieces
in their groceries


Management asks that
staff cease pretending the heads
are promotional items

Heads are not promo
Items – they smell and they bite
and some of them curse

Some of you no doubt
have nothing better to do
with your coffee breaks

Than use company
property like spoiled children
Nice attitude folks

We do not accept
responsibility for
the unsanctioned dead

And we are tired of
hosing down the parking lot
during zombie hours

Thank you

Poems for Monsters #2: Frankenstein

Ten minutes left on our coffee break
But there’s no stopping Frankenstein's
Monster on a roll

Blah blah blah he says I was so misunderstood
Peasants and pitchforks and bolts in my skull
I just wanted my own set of Tesla coils
And a nice summer cottage
To play with children
And love goddamnit

Criminal tears trace scars on his face
Meanwhile the entire food court's gone quiet
They're wrapping and unwrapping sandwiches
Nesting birds at twilight
wondering if pine boughs and darkness will shelter them

Hey he says
Have you heard of dianetics?