There’s a little monster in my head,
He’s a one-man percussion band,
beating his bongos and grinning —
maliciously.
There’s a little monster in my head,
who doesn’t like to go to bed.
When it’s time to sleep,
the little monster in my head
plays bongos and castanets and
vuvuzelas, jumping up and down inside my
cranium — that little monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
with a trampoline and a mallet
and — perhaps — a chisel,
and he’s doing unwelcomed and
random refurbishments —
that little monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
and he likes to play with the lights,
strobe lights and
disco lights
to go with the beat of the bongos,
to go with the beat of his mallet —
that little monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
doing the conga with his monster friends,
doing gymnastics with dangerous
objects — far worse than running
with scissors — that little monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
and I have no love for him.
I’d really like to evict him
and make him vacate —
that little monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
but I can not make him go —
that nasty wasty monster in my head.
There’s a little monster in my head,
and you might know his name.
Do you want to know it?
That little monster in my head?
His name is …
Migraine.
© Susan Joy Clark 2021
This was written — a little late again — for dVerse’s chant poetry challenge. I started out with a completely different poetry idea, but the migraine continues (a little bit reduced by medicine maybe) and has been quite distracting. So, I decided to write about it. There was once a commercial for some sort of migraine medication that presented the “migraine” like a cartoonized monster. In an abstract way, it kind of made sense to me (not scientifically,) but in the sense of how it feels. It’s too bad I didn’t make this coincide with Migraine Awareness Month which was in June.
