A History Of Monsters - Poem by Scott Minar
I was surrounded
By the electricity used to wake me,
A lightning bolt
Walking around in that suit from Sears,
Crackling as I strolled
With a flower in my lapel.
Wow, people will think,
Who the hell is that guy
And why is he smoking?
I noticed it too. Ushering out
Of my sleeves, a little leak
At the bottom of a pant leg,
Cuff on fire or smoldering
Like a branch used to roast a sweet.
It took weeks to think again,
I was so used to the limbo of small diaspora
Like a child's drawing dropping off to a scribble
When she fell asleep. I can't tell
If I'm grateful to be back
Or not. It's been such a long, fragmented time
Being so many people at once
And never knowing it. I think I'll write
A book of my lives—running from the villagers
Who hated me, befriending the woman
Who forgave my nature and my ugliness,
Hunting the creator in the dark.
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