Bananas Never Sleep

I offer a poem and picture.

My Monster

The monster in the bathroom

wants to eat my brain.
I can’t keep him out of the tub.
He drinks all the commode water.

My wife’s scared too,

but she wants to resist him
more than me. She hates
claw marks on the toilet paper.

Some nights, when he pops

out from behind the dark
to scare the towels, I want him dead.
“You bastard!” I whisper as he slinks.

He stays out of sight in day,

but sounds like a drunk all night.
It’s impossible to get decent rest.
Often I sit up & pretend to watch

television to avoid a confrontation

over an infomercial. Sometimes I feel
sorry for him & want to become friends.
I ponder inviting him to the sofa to drink

some beers, watch the late movie.

We could talk about our troubles,
or ask friends over & really party.
My wife hates the idea. “What if

he breaks the china?” she says. “What if

he drinks too much & tears down the house?”
I say it couldn’t be worse than it’s already been.
The monster has no place to hide.