Ode on a 1935 James Whale Film
[OK, just had to do this since hallawayjoe posted the source material. This may well be my best poem anyway, at least, according to doctorgogol.]Thou still unravished Bride of FrankensteinThou monster child of science and our timeCadaverous Eve who hates her patchwork AdamMade by mad, intelligent design.What legends haunt the edges of your storyOf deities or mortals, or of both?Your fathers toast a world of gods and monstersYou'll populate after you pledge your troth.Praetorius, wanting everlasting glory,Unveils homunculi in canisters.Young Henry Frankenstein, so easily ledHas caught hubris from his far-reaching mentor,Forsakes his bride to resurrect the dead(Praetorius so obviously resents her).She and the dead girl with electric hairScream through the film. The male monster speaks.In grunted words, he asks for SacramentsOf bread and wine. It's that and friends he seeks.But wanders the countryside giving folks a scareAnd killing them by tragic accident.Ah, happy, happy plans that go astray!We reach for what we want and grasp disaster,Like Icarus who fell into the sea.The misunderstood monster and his masterLay waste to truth and beauty, they are damned.The monster does not want to stay alive."We belong dead," he says, and he will win.It's Germany in 1935.The monster takes a torch in his dead handAnd the great fire of history begins.