One day a little girl asked me if I believed in monsters
And I smiled
I didn’t grab the truth by the collar
I wrestled it to the ground
I tucked it deep underneath my arm
And I said love you know monsters aren’t real
And its times like this when I wish my sentences
Came with receipts so I could take back my words
I wasn’t being completely honest
You see as I spoke to her I damn near chocked
On a secret that has been stapled to inside of my throat
More often than I can remember
Not only do I believe in monsters but
Ive seen them whisper themselves into existence
Ive heard they talk nightmares
Of the islands of the innocent
And then linger in dark corners
Preying on the unsuspecting
Somehow they figured how to crawl through 8millimeter film
And walk backwards straight into the dreams
Of those who have never ever ever been scared to sleep
I believe in monsters like I believe in oxygen
So tell me…
How big is your closet
How much space is really underneath the beds
That you shake in the middle of the night
You vampire, you werewolf in sheep’s clothing
You swallow halos and spit out nooses
How can I not believe in monsters
When I see man like you
Walking with their knuckles
Scrapping against the concrete
Your hands that burst
On the screams of assaulted women
Then squeeze yourself into costumes that fool the public
Into thinking your human
how dare you have the audacity to impersonate me
How dare you pretend as though there isn’t a women out there scrubbing
The inside of her thighs until they turn stop sign writing trying to erase your finger prints from her skin
How come humans thought to believe that your blood is just as blue as mine
When you speak I can smell Dante’s inferno on your breath
but I’ve spent the last five years of my life
wondering how you escaped from hell
and wasted more than to many nights thinking of any way I can take you back
ive caught galaxy’s on the inside of my throat
just to make your world a little easier to swallow
but I can stand the taste of your behavior
every time you cross my path I get the sudden urge to tie you to a chair cover you in gasoline
and set your body on fire
granted I am no van helsing but ive seen enough horror movies to know how to get ride of motherfuckers like you
What hurts me the most is that I know that even if I killed you
There is still millions of monsters walking this earth
Pretending to be men
There were large oaken chairs
with broad armrests,
black cast iron pedestals
for customers’ feet,
elevated like thrones
in train station concourses
and hotel hallways.
A lowly stool with a wooden box
for brushes, chamois, polishes,
and the man who bowed down daily
to feed his family.
And, oh, how those shoes
would shine when he was done,
the world reflected
in gleaming Florsheims,
except for the black face
closest to them.© Jude Dippold, 2012
The job takes about 3 years to make an engraved tatoo for an individual camels. First 2 years, there is just growing the hair and starts trimming. Inhabitant of desert does not use the iron engraved for the camels. They just cut and dye the camel hair. I have never seen such a beautiful works in the world.
Photographs by Osakabe Yasuo and Steve Hoge.
