Roy Mash
      roy@roymash.com
mummy

Intimations of Mortality

As a boy I imagined Karloff's Mummy
set off from Egypt, plodding dunes,
arms ever out in the usual Mummy way, 
on his mission to Detroit, and me. 

Now and again I plot him across the years,
stilting in black and white along the long 
Atlantic floor. No character development here,
yet each  dumb ... effortful ... step: a progression.

Rarely as a rule do I dwell on the horror. 
Cursed and carefree as any archaeologist, 
I bustle about, running errands, playing ball;
me so nimble, and him so far.
 
How slow the director had him project
his shadow ... across ... the screen.
Only my buddy's wisecrack cut 
the fear, helped me make it through to the end:

Anybody who gets caught by The Mummy
deserves to die!

   -Atlanta Review, Spring 2009