Childhood monsters
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Can be vanquished
With a flashlight
A magic wand
Another glass of water
Some monsters are appeased
With rituals
No toes sticking out of the covers
And it won't nibble them off
Flush the toilet,count to ten, and run back to bed
It can't get you until eleven
Even the ones who dwell under the bed
Or in the closet
And have pointy teeth and yellow eyes
Won't cross the threshold
Of a parent's bedroom
Even they follow the rules
Then one day you overhear
A hushed conversation
While playing with Legos
Or coloring with your new crayons
You hear the word "monster"
And the grown-ups faces don't look quite right
One day a neighbor girl
Teases you and says
"Better not go outside by yourself-you'll get raped."
And you ask your mother what that means
And then you wish you hadn't
But you can't take it back now
It's 1974
The grown-ups have that look again
And you ask who Adam Walsh is anyway?
Then you learn
That the monsters are real
And they don't play by the rules now.
submitted for the Thursday Think Tank, #46, Monsters at Poets United
