The Munsters

   —1964-1966

We were not that family

At 1313 Mockingbird Lane

My father was no Frankenstein

Green-skinned, square-knobbed

Graveyard zombie, anger like fire

Atop a townsman’s torch

My mother was no monster bride

No glamour-drama queen

Hairdo twitching with gossip

Prancing through the moonlit lilies

Her nightgown hemmed with mud

My brother was no werewolf

Smiling and shy as God’s own grace

Then howling the devil’s midnight rage

Which monster was my Pop

My philandering grandpa Joe

The equine expert, dating old divorcees

While Gramma Dear, ill back home

Smoked another cigarette, coughed

Another flock of belfry bats

And I, of course, was no Marilyn

    Not fair, not blonde

Normal on the outside, yes

But inside, beyond the foyer

Spider webs and clouds of gnats 

Rats along the banister

Mirrors up and down the hall

Walls without reflection

New South, 2008