Under the Couch
By Rob Walker

Under the couch
Are dozens of toys
As well as a monster
Who eats little boys

He has long ragged claws
And a slobbery snout
And if I reach under
I'll never come out

He keeps guard over comic books
Chattering teeth
Monopoly pieces
All trapped underneath

Barbie doll heads call out with despair
While he uses their arms to comb
Greasy black hair

Picking his fangs with green army men,
An entire platoon in his cobwebby den

Legos and jacks, a lost rubics cube
Wax lips, a kazoo and an old inner tube

Sometimes it calls me under to play
I'm afraid if I go, that I'll have to stay

Forever with lost and old broken toys
In the belly of the monster who eats little boys.