An inky little cloud tickles my noseI am contemplating sleep

And death

I am stretched in many


Like a spider or a


Blinking into the emptiness of rooms

The monster under the bed is

Peering at me

Daring me to come in

Without turning on the


So he can grab me by the ankles

The idea of PTA meetings

Is way scarier than him

And why do we think the

Thing under the bed is a he?

Even the dumbest ones know

Women are much scarier

The fairest aren’t fair at all

Biting off heads

Hiding emails

Making tables out of folk

While I listen to the idiot

Box and dream of dreaming

She should come out

And show herself

Maybe she has some ideas

For how to do it


Or just stick to one thing

Like she does

Permeating the thoughts of

Little children and adult

Children all over the universe

She is a master of her trade

Me not so much