by emilymattison

I lay awake at night 

Watching the light of the moon

Cast shadows across my room.

I cannot sleep, for I am kept awake

In fear of that man called Frankenstein.

No, I do not speak of the creation

With stitches in his neck.

I speak of his creator, Victor,

For he is a man of actions 

Far more scary and more real:

Unsafe medical practice.

This college drop-out is not a doctor,

For he blindly refused his professors’ advice

(entitled hubris was his vice).

Incestuous and prideful, 

This is the man I fear

For while walking corpses are not real,

Entitled rich white men roam free.

Categories: creative, Emily mattison, oct. 26, vol 25