Under the Bed
When I was young,
monsters lived
under my bed
or in my closet
waiting
until dark
to whisper
my name.
Now, they hide
deep in an unmapped
part of my brain.
Or maybe in that bourbon
in the freezer waiting
to be poured. They call
my name at night.
In the morning, I hold
them at bay
until it’s after noon
and the bottle is gone.
SLAB 2016
