Monsters Under The Bed
A Poem About An Incurious Imagination
“The monsters are not real,” he says.
While lying there, wide-eyed, in bed.
He hugs his teddy bear so hard that it looks wide-eyed, too.
“I close my eyes—they go away.”
A phrase that he is quick to say.
Despite the many times it’s said, he’s never thought it true.
He fears that under where he sleeps
Some amorphous goblin creeps
With fangs and teeth and claws and well… the rest he can’t explain.
His mom and dad have long since quit
Responding to his every fit,
So he is left to face alone the beasts made by his brain.
His fear will never let him rest.
His heart keeps pounding in his chest.
His onesie’s Batman symbol makes explicit every beat.
And though his gaze he could unsheathe
To take a moment’s look beneath
He lies eyes-clenched while murmuring petty words of self-deceit.