The Creature
 
 


by Bill Dodds
 
   
In the middle of the night,
in the part that’s known as “dead,”
I wake and hear the breathing
of the creature ’neath my bed.

Sometimes he growls and threatens me,
sometimes he only stares.
He’s big and mean and ugly,
and I shiver when he glares.

His B. O. fills the bedroom,
and his breath is awful, too.
His teeth are caked with ick and grime;
he should be in a zoo.

Instead, he lives beneath me—
it’s like rooming with a skunk.
The creature’s my big brother,
and he has the lower bunk.



Text © Bill Dodds, reprinted from Dinner with Dracula, published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Mike and Carl Gordon. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.


Click the cover below for more information or to buy the book.

 
 
 
go back to Scary Poems