He steals our dreams while we sleep,
Once hiding in closets, under beds
Until he was nabbed for B & E.
Released, he dwells outside in boxes
Where we close our eyes and well-wish
With a kiss and underhand release,
Accepted by a splash, sink, and clink.
A child’s chuck for a pony/
A gambler’s flick at luck/
A romantic’s fling for love—
Our thoughts, hopes, desires
Pennied, nickeled and dimed
Into his nightly scrapings
Off a fountain’s floor.
2 comments:
This is an interesting telling of the Boogeyman myth. It's great that he gets "nabbed for B & E" and how the rehabilitation has tempered and transformed his presence from fear into hope. I can't help but read this poem with my own religious skew: the Boogeyman being God, the imaginary creation that tempers us from sinning, and the one that we praise for the pony, the gambler's luck, and the romance.
Sorry Edward, I changed the title of this one because I felt that the poem was not working the way I had intended.
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