Be a nice little monster, a good little monster, a nice little good little thing. Drive Volvos. Wear compact tampons. Carry enough for your friends. Keep to old kingdoms. Keep the bleeding to yourself. You are always hungry. Even the last barrow is lit by construction of a new Trader Joe’s. A sensitive monster. clean little monster. Repair the hole in your cape. Bury your each beloved with ceremony. Haunt birches to the north. Kitten boots are in, black as the barrow. Groundling, believe in your happiness, and blend your foundation. Be of good cheer. An amiable monster. It was your kingdom once. They looked for you on the roofs. Sleep well. Sleep well. Keep the blood to yourself. A good monster. good little monster. Sleep with one sex at a time. Haunt lightly. Wear it well. Always the hunger. The bleeding stops after a time. Bend only saplings. Accessorize. Good little monster. A well-tempered monster. Keep your blonde as blonde as sable. Don’t mourn too loudly. Don’t go to the roof.
Matilda Young lives in Silver Spring, Maryland. She is a third year poet in the Creative Writing MFA Program at the University of Maryland. She currently works as a paralegal in appellate law, where the lawyers are great, but there is a depressing dearth of adjectives.
She is at all times experiencing a low-level but undeniable craving for the queso and freshly made 50-cent flour tortillas served by Taco Cabana in Houston, preferably served with an orange Fanta, but the flavor of Fanta is negotiable.
Back to Issue 4: Hungry Things