Behind The Door Poem by Michael Pruchnicki

'What's behind the door? ' he said,
trembling with anticipation.

The monster bared her fangs
as he opened the door

she stood seven feet - give or take
dressed in ragged garments
that clung to her skeletal frame

A figment of someone's perverted imagination
like a character in a pulp fiction fantasy
he thought

'Are you the lady used to teach fourth grade
in the school at the end of the street? '

She nodded and grinned as her claws
reached out to grasp him

He skedaddled out of there!