monster hunters
This blog post is generously provided in kind by Kyra Lalas. The Double Down blog is also supported by Nevada Humanities’ donors.
By Kyra Lalas
i hunt the demon that goes bump in the night
but first i ask if they’d like to take a bath
i take a sponge and scrub
at the filth, wet, and slop
until it comes off effortless and neat
i towel their spine and they brush their teeth
read them bedtime stories where they sleep
so they can know the comfort of safety
of warm sheets, laundry soap, and childish dreams
i hunt the werewolf who howls at the moon’s dimming light
but i ask if he’d like any dinner first
treat him to a good meal, fatten him up
with promises sweet savory and true
come high moon i card my fingers through his hair
tell him Let’s go play fetch and watch his eyes when he sees
the sky’s biggest bouncy ball for him to chew as he’d please
i hunt frankenstein’s monster who wakes with a lightning strike
but at least i call him by his name
take him to the parts of the world he was not born into
where you can be unapologetic and unashamed
i read him dictionaries and definitions
teach him synopses and synonyms
read him literature with unwritten meanings
if he was only the bits and pieces of parts stitched together
at least he could invent a whole with his own brains
i hunt dracula whose voice curdles blood in fright
but we talk for what feels like centuries
open bougie wine in his castle and laugh our sorrows down
in reds rich, pyrite, and bitter
i see bathrooms and bedrooms and banquet halls
paintings of man and woman ornate on every wall
never any mirrors
i only find him in the unused flash of his full-bodied laughter
i will send someone to clean all his windows
so he too can taste the light of gold, and learn the taste of silver
i hunt every monster who makes noise in the night
i come at every call, every slight, every sight
of beings with beady eyes and claws and fangs
but i will fill each of their stomachs
provide knowledge and comfort and company
it does not make you a monster
for not having a way to be saved
Kyra Lalas is a junior at the Coral Academy of Science Sandy Ridge campus in Las Vegas, Nevada. She has a dual passion for the arts and the sciences, and aspires to be a concert pianist and an engineer. When not writing poetry, Kyra can often be found practicing piano and trumpet, rehearsing a speech, cracking bad jokes, or simply relaxing with a cup of coffee.