Talking Shop with the Good Doctor

I met with Dr. Frankenstein. He chuckled
As he saw me coming. He's been reading
Me, he said, “and I can see that you've
Been busy. Your mind is a workshop
Much like mine. You've been creating
Beings out of others you have found.
You made one from your niece. It died.
You made one from the girl from Japan.
It also didn't live, and then you found
This red-haired woman, strapped her
To your table, and assembled what you
Wanted of her, so you thought. She
Rose and lives, but does so unexpectedly.
She's largely as she was before, a dutiful
And shallow thing, a pretty face whose
Life appears to satisfy her when she's
Not near you and you are out of mind,
But your work wasn't all for naught.
She's grown accustomed to the things
You've done to idolize her, and she
Shudders to the charges of affection
That you send through her. Now,
She needs you, more or less, and you,
As I have, must attend to what you
Rashly made.”



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 67 times
Written on 2015-06-14 at 13:52

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