You're never more than 10 feet from a monster

They are not the pus ridden blister
or lopsided belief, the hunched or the
hairy with talons and teeth.

They wont eat your flesh or pierce
a vein, nor ride at you headless
whilst wailing your name.

No, they stand on your doors step
with false Id, talk about savings
that go when they leave.

Some follow the frail, the aged
and lonely, snatching at hand bags
unseen and urbanely.

Others are the why, we don't talk
to strangers, drive a slow car
pulled in from the pavement.

They dig shallow graves to bury
their regret, then pretend nothing happened,
that you'll never forget.

So if you meet one, find out where
it sleeps, buy yourself a hand gun
or call the police.