You are, entirely, a monster. You are
The papier-mâché, one-headed body horror thing
Sliding over itself, tongue lashing
Hydraulic hydra-lick, you little cutie,
Laughing your crawling way closer and closer.
You are the hammy Hammer Horror
Silhouette on my staircase, a shadow’s claw
Groping over the balustrade, gliding
Like a knockoff Nosferatu
Sleazily upward. You are
The claw of foam and PVC
Around my waist, alien eyes
Lobster claw around my pinchable waist:
Nothing more intimate than
Distressing a damsel.
You’re even the backing score, the organ
Bum-bah-Bummmmming an implausible dread
To thunder and sound-effect villain chuckles
As the titles loom up like a Power Point
In flickering monochrome
Dripping in blooded letters,
“I LOVE YOU JAMES”
…Because the difference between romance
And cheesy horror, if there is one,
Is mostly the font.
A poem of love, dedicated to my horror-devoted monster of a husband. Also, look up Liquidism font: you’ll notice that it is ubiquitous, in one form or another, across all of the tackiest examples of the genre. Love it.