A monster of cookies and a man of spiders
Lie in a stilted plastic embrace
On the floor of my shower
Waiting for my sleepy naked foot
Like a soapy cartoon landmine
In the semi darkness
Where I don’t expect to face my mortality
By way of a crushed skull
From a forgotten toy
Regardless of how well it would fit
With the rest of the story
These aren’t the assassins
That I once thought that I would face
Although I do revile the blue one’s
Wanton destruction of innocent pastries
I had conceived of my enemies
In grander terms
Back when my super powers
Were just in front of me
And I was the small naked hero
Narrating the struggle for the world
In the shampoo rain while my father
Far above and far away
Presumably kept score and kept mumbling
Something about something
And the bruises
On his feet