How Long Do Monsters Live?
How long do monsters live,
I often wonder
Watching them destroy
Countless lives each day,
In constant fear for my own
And those I love.
My muscles tense up
Whenever they draw near,
Pretending to be human,
Turning on the charm,
Thinking we are fooled,
When they are the worst
Of all abominations:
Without empathy,
Without compassion
Or remorse,
The ones who murder
Without compunction
Like this one
My grandmother trapped
Over half a century ago,
Curled up in a steel cage
Still alive, staring at me
With familiar eyes,
Gleaming with hatred
For his own granddaughter.
We should have ended him
Decades ago
But we are not killers.
So we keep him locked
In this cage
To keep the world safe.
*
On my 99th birthday
After far too much cake,
I take a trip down to the shed
To see the monster again.
He looks gray and old,
Muscles atrophied and curled
But still alive,
Still with hatred in his eyes.
I have no more words for him.
I turn away and lock the shed,
Pondering
If I should set it on fire,
Relieving my descendants
Of this burden.
The alternative:
If he escapes
And once again
Tastes human flesh—
The consequences
Are unthinkable.
As I light a match, I wonder,
How long do monsters live?
Should this be
My grandchildren’s burden?
Thinking
Of their small, sweet faces,
I do not hesitate.
I set the shed on fire
And remain, unmoving
Until I see ash on his bones.