A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Sunday, December 18, 2022

the monster awakes

The torch and pitchfork crowd 
is the real monster 
they arise aroused and banded 
together terrified and furious, 
impotent with rage 
to become something greater 
than the few or the one. 

To become Us. Mighty, 
and mighty scared alone, 
but together we are 

mad strong. 

The monster awakes, terrified 
and furious. 

In this case, we hope it's just
the one

one monster,
all the accounts
and rumors, terrifying us 
these past few nightmarish 
days, 

it all sounded like the same thing, 
one thing - beyond ken! Ken,
let's all admit it, is an asshole
but THIS thing! It scared us
beyond all admitting, and made
us feel scared. Weak about it.

Powerless.
Helpless. Welp,
here's an end to THAT

Because the only thing worse
than any It 

The only thing worse than Us 
Vs. Them, usually

is us vs. one. 

Us vs. It. 

Grab your pitchforks, boys 
I mean men. Oh sure, let 
the boys come along. Show 
them something. How men 
manage monsters. Well, 
monster, let's hope to God. 
Not plural! Hell, bring the women
- women and girls, could you
manage the torches? We're all
forked up, you could 

just sort of
strew yourselves through 
the mob, add a lurid glare. That's 
the stuff! All aboard, now 
march in the most disorderly 
fashion! A rabble! This is 
mob work, boys - men 
I mean. 

It's time to show the world 
plus this damn monster we 
hate, scared us so - 

who the real monster is. 

Any 
time 
we 
have 
to. 

It's us! Here we 
always are, and 
a moral to the story, 
maybe. If you're a 
monster, don't. 

Or if you can't not 
be a monster, just 
don't scare us, ok? 

We can't be good 
for you

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