The Munsters

Love is thicker than dust,
death a nourishing nap,
Grandpa wedged in a coffin’s
puckered satin, savvy and stout,
face painted
like a geisha’s.
Now watch Eddie skip home,
ears pointing to god,
his family’s house a crocodile
with hatchlings in her mouth,
staircase unhinging to gulp the dragon
scuttling playfully behind him.

Love is thicker than dust,
and Dad has a tantrum,
neck bolts spinning,
fists swinging wide as wrecking balls,
light as cake.
Mom strews cobwebs like tinsel
and the kids gaily cackle,
Dad stomping anvil feet,
getting tsk-tsk from his niece,
steam screaming from his ears,
another scheme gone bad
as test tubes froth,
explosion tickling
tender necks
and settling cool as snowflakes,
soft as sleep.
Love is thick.
All is well.

Lynn McGee