Montauk Monster - Laura Stevenson

I will be a bird,

I will be a monster,

Sleeping on a perch,

Underneath an overpass

Passersby will pour their eyes out,

Pull at my heart and beg me to move,

But I’ll do what I’m told

And you can not pass through

I will be a train, you will be a stowaway,

Creeping down below my steaming locomotive

And while we pour through a series of tunnels

I’ll pour my boiling water

And scald raw every inch of your skin

And what a spectacle to see you all unraveled and exposed Well you got too

close, those hangers-on were bound to burn.

It was only your turn I warned you,

I said «who goes there?»