Dogs are barking across the street
Behind the old abandoned house
That house of horrors where the kid was killed.
They never caught the killer, the family
Moved away in a media feeding frenzy.
I have to see what’s going on, so I walk
Through backyard, waist-high grass
To the edge of a cliff and look down.
Some Mexican field hands are yelling
Chasing a great ape escaped from the zoo.
I see the ape nervously looking back
I only hear the men, the gorilla moves on
I’m so close to falling off the edge
I turn back, and there he is in the yard
King Kong staring at me, curious, grumbling
I run into the haunted house, Kong is reaching
Trying to grab me, but I get away
Hide in a number of moldy rooms while he looks
In windows, his drooling mouth is all I see.
The terror seems without end, but I get out
Sprint home faster than Jessie Owens
Stand in an open doorway, wait, call my father.
I hear him cutting paper with a scissors
I enter the living room, find him sitting
In a gorilla suit snipping paper dolls,” “WTF Dad?!”
“You see something unusual”, he asks…
“Which is it, my costume, the newspaper clippings?
Get in here and clean them up
Before your mother gets home!” I bend to get them
The big ape eye is staring through the living room window.
I’m done for; there is no way out now.
In a twisted way, in this nightmare, I guess I am like Fay Wray: powerless, terrified with no escape possible, or so it seemed in the dream.
Rayn Roberts 2017