Josephus Malloy

Josephus Malloy was a wondrous boy - I mean, he even ate all of his peas
He was kind, and upright, he slept through the night, and always, but always said please
Truly, a marvelous boy
Was Josephus Tiberius Malloy

He lived in a home with an onion-shaped dome, and a door the color of sky
With his Moms, and his Pops, and that’s all (so they thought) but there was another…
Here’s why.
Why somewhere, under that dome
Somebody else was at home

For Josephus, it seems, was SO good and clean that he never was angry or bad
He never stomped feet, or spit in the street, or was scared, or embarrassed, or sad
Such a fine, such a well-behaved boy
Ever-smiling Josephus Malloy

But things weren't so tidy! A secret was why he was shockingly, achingly nice
When he felt out of whack, he'd take out a sack and stuff it all down in a trice
Oh the things to be found densely packed
In that velvety, bruise-colored sack

If he spilled all his juice, or had no excuse for breaking his Mother's Ming vase
If he messed up in school, or acted the fool, he'd stuff the bad feelings because
...Because why? The boy wasn't sure
It seemed safer somehow to seem pure

So he'd stuff down the ick, and the whine, and the sick, and he'd stuff down the I'd-rather-not
He'd stuff down the fright, then he'd tie it up tight, with a nice, oh-so-nice sailor's knot
Oh, for hadn't he picked up the knack
For tight-tying of knots in bruised sacks!

And as he was stuffing, his breath dropped to nothing: he completely stopped breathing -- it's true!
He'd hold it all in with a trembling chin, and smile though lips berry blue
Such a diligent, hard-working boy
Hard-stuffing Josephus Malloy

Then when no one was looking -- say his parents were cooking their dinner discussing the day
He'd sneak up the stairs with his sack of who-cares, tight-holding his breath all the way
What an interesting, likeable boy
Two-steps-at-a-time J. Malloy

Then into his room, to his closet and soon he'd have the knot off of that sack
Then he'd dump it all out, all the grouchies and doubts
TO FEED the one crouching in back
Josephus with thumbs tight and pale
Would FEED IT and finally   ......exhale

Haaaaaaaaaaaa!

Well.

Who was there? What could bare to crouch all alone in the dim?
In the back of a closet, who/what/why was it? Was it an It? Or a Her? Or a Him?
This...This that was eating
What Josephus was feeding?

Well.

All those shouts and those tears when quick-dumped for years in the closet, they one day...begat
They took a smell
then a form
then a shape
then was born
this miasma, phantasm, this....That.
This...That in that closet
Locked safe, yes. ...But was it?

For who could have known that a monster is grown where the light of the sun is held back?
That when curtains are shut, then my children here’s what will bloom in the gloom and the black
The sun warms, and it forms, and things grow
But the dark grows things too...that don't show

Like this thing made of sighs, and of sneers and of cries and of worries and sorrows and fears
With bristlecone hair and a chin down to there and fingernails not trimmed in years
Ooh! Snaggled-up teeth like a shark
Eh! Sitting picking its nose in the dark

It moaned and it chewed on the right awful food Josephus quick-stuffed it for feed
It stank and it drank unmentionable broths fermented by loathing and greed
This That just upstairs -- wow. Who knew?
Moms and Pops just below had no clue

No clue. But a hint...

No clue, but a hint, as Josephus seemed spent, slightly wanner and thinner each day
Though his eyes still shone bright, something wasn't quite right; his skin -- was it thin? Was it gray?
Still behaving the plus-perfect boy
Slightly-dwindling Josephus Malloy

Slightly, just slightly as they tucked him in nightly, his parents had less cheek to pat
Thinner, and thinner though he ate all his dinner Josephus grew spindly and...flat
And still the bruised sack was nearby
Just in case he wanted to cry

Have you ever gone flat? Like the wing of a bat? Or something you've stomped with your shoe?
Your breath's like a sigh, you can't even cry, you're done in, you're knackered, you're through?
This boy had; so skinny, so spare
Till one day -- he slipped right through his chair!

O dear boy! What's the matter? You're flatter and flatter! his folks cried as they loosened his shirt
Oh what has been done to our wondrous son? Are you well? Can you tell? Does it hurt?
And they peeeeeeled him up off the floor
(For that's part of what parents are for)

Well.

While Josephus grew flatter, this...That had grown fatter...

Had grown bigger, and fatter and it didn't matter Josephus no longer felt good
It grew and it grew till the hinges and screws of the closet BURST out of the wood
It was out, it was loose, it was FREE!
Oh no! What could happen?

Let's see.

It came howling downstairs -- teeth, nails, and wild hairs -- it came shrieking and speaking in tongues
And it grew and it grew as it flew down into the room with a Roar! in its lungs
The crystal! The vases! Egads!
Messiness! Sloppiness! Bad!

Josephus shrank back and grabbed his bruised sack -- but no way could he stuff this That down
Now his folks could see all; oh, to curl up in a ball! Please no anger! Please no yelling! Please no frowns!
And as flat as Josephus had been
He wished he'd grow flatter again

That shivered and loomed, took up all of the room, murmuring, stammering oaths
Through the stink and the shock was it - was it trying to talk?  Was it shouting, or crying, or both?
Snaggle-teeth dripping green foam
Chanting two little words: Please, home.

Please home
please home
please home.

Moms and Pops stood in awe of its gibbering maw, of the shambling, scrambling mess
And their flat son still shrinking? It got both of them thinking...
so they stood.
And they thought.
And assessed.
Could it be?
Do you think?
Wait! That roar...
It's -- that voice -- yes!
We've heard it before!

Please home
please home
please home.

Dear boy is this true? Is this really you? said his Father, squinting a bit
I think it must be, said his Mother, you see that's Josephus' face - yes that's it
For who but a parent could spot
Their own little boy in that rot?

Please home.

Please home? Yes that's fine! And they lifted the blinds, threw open each window and door
And the light flooded in where it never had been, light gushed, and it rushed, and it poured
And it filled that paper-flat boy
Just in time, poor Josephus Malloy

It wasn't all pretty, and more is the pity this...That couldn't just disappear
Send it all back to some closet or sack - anyplace, anytime except here
But now That was out in the air
So Josephus stepped forward (and scared)

Please?
Home?

Then the boy hugged That tight with all of his might -- it was his! all these things long denied
It was his! It was him! Every wart! Every limb! Never more would he stuff-run-and-hide!
How he hugged! Brought them close -- all his parts
His chest feeling their peal-pealing hearts

And this hug was the start of taking apart this That that was finally out
Some burned in the light, some dropped out of sight, some flew out the window no doubt
While some stayed with Josephus Malloy
Plump-plumping the too-too-flat boy

Until just Josephus was left
All of him.

Now Josephus Malloy is a happier boy -- though he actually doesn't like peas
And he sometimes gets sad, or makes his folks mad, or forgets to quick-cover a sneeze
See? He breathes like a regular boy!
Grin-grinning Josephus Malloy

All are truly at home neath the onion-shaped dome, though they fight, or they yell, or they cry
But these storms pass like that, no one ever goes flat, and the closets stay empty and dry
For aren't closets for clothes and for stuff?
Not for stuffing of... right. That's enough.

And the bruise-colored sack? It's still there...
Only now
                it's used
                                 for the laundry.