Is it true?
What he says?-
That everything is meaningless.
One in a million will be remembered,
The rest are named on rusted plaques
On playground benches
And beneath scrawny trees
Mini epitaphs read like
The once legendary Ozymandias.

I am great Ozymandias, the King of Kings; this mighty City shows the wonders of my hand;
We are all dust and returning to the earth;
A great wife, mother, and friend;
If tears could build a road, I’d build one to bring you back;
To my best friend and wife, I love you.

When those who remember succumb to sleep
Eternal captivity binds the body
And memories of love are forgotten,
Secrets undisclosed and passions unprofessed;
Do you regret, sir, never taking a chance?
You walked the safe route,
Forsaking adventure,
Those remembered leave the safe path- create their own.

My name! you declare, my name
Is a memory!, a quasi-epitaph of its own
To my great aunt twice removed on my mother’s side
Who was first called thus.
But a name means nothing without memory attached.

As hard as I try, I don’t remember him,
June 6, 1994- March 13, 1995,
They’re cutting down the tree
Planted for my brother,
The plaque remains, rusting,
Marking nothing.
How many people read it and forget?
Continue playing on the swings,
They have no notion of our loss.

And I have none of theirs.

From Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, pg. 77-78 “I expected… be virtuous.”

“The Monster’s Lament”

Why did you create me

If this what I’m to be?

A fallen angel

(You- I’ll mangle)

Wretched creature

(O be my teacher!)

I hate this life, but life I want,

So teach me Virtue

Or your dreams I’ll haunt.

What made me so?

Misery- my perpetual foe.

Dejection, rejection,

Starving for affection,

Alas! Who can love me?

All men hate the wretched

For not even my Maker

Will extend a hand of Protection.

In making me, you courted Death,

You sport with life

As if a game,

And you only have yourself to blame

For my creation you have not fame-

No, just Misery.

So listen, sir, to my request

And dare say you’ll do your best

To meet my needs-

Absolve your deeds-

You owest me that much.

I beseech you, natural lord and king

To alleviate my suffering;

Renew in me lost happiness,

I seek virtue through simple bliss.

But if you reject my dire plea,

Expect to embrace agony;

I will not stop, will never rest

Until you forge a wife for me.

What sayest you?