Monsters

by Bradley McIlwain

I have heard the echo of their dirge songs 

carried across moors at night,

when the moon is bright and high
slouching sullenly across the sky,

I have heard, and you can hear, the sound of flesh 

peeling from ear to ear —

The sudden cringe of nerves, the gnash of teeth 

and grinding bone 

Nowadays, if you're lucky you can catch them

in black and white:

Lon Chaney, Bela Lugosi, 

Boris Karloff and Vincent Price —

Those were the monsters of the night:
Haunting sets and cinemas for decades,

Still, I have heard the echo of their dirge songs 

carried across the moor at night,

when the moon is bright and high
slouching sullenly across the sky,

Bram Stoker would be proud enough to know:
I still believe in monsters.