I, Frankenstein


6 I Frankenstein illo

Thadra Sheridan

I, Frankenstein

I assembled this body
from pieces
I scavenged
from the graveyard across town.
I transported
arms and legs,
fingers, torso and head
in a duffel bag
by city bus.
Once home,
I locked myself
in dark quarters,
arranged the collected parts
into a shape of my liking,
then fastened them together
with duct tape
and bits of ribbon
I found in my apartment.
I gave it
poise and posture.
I gave it
I took limbs,
lifeless and flaccid
with death-apathy
and made them move.
I gave clumsy fingers
a knife, fork,
and pen.
I researched food and vitamins
for optimum strength
and skin-tone.
I taught this body
to make the best use
of its shape
and femininity.
The new brain, too
was my creation,
my greatest creation.
I chose to erase
customs, social etiquette,
and started
with a clean slate.
I gave it language,
in its simplicity.
I gave it attention
and concentration.
I gave it the power
to make its own rules,
to live beside,
not within.
I gave it confidence,
I stepped back from my creation;
a whole, new being.
Then I smiled at my handiwork
and set it free
to ravage the world.

Thadra Sheridan is a poet, essayist, teacher, and performer from Minneapolis, MN. Her work has appeared in Rattle, moXie Magazine, The Legendary, Talking Stick, Specter, Blotterature, The Pine Hills Review, on Button Poetry, Upworthy, HBO’s Def Poetry Jam, and in several anthologies. She is a recipient of the Jerome Foundation’s Verve Grant for spoken word and a past weekly columnist for Opineseason.com. She has performed at hundreds of venues across the country, from the Bowery in New York to San Quentin Penitentiary. Her short film “Waiting” became a viral Youtube sensation last year, uniting servers across the globe. She is currently working on a memoir.


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