The Pizza Monster

By Joel Bush

The Pizza Monster

The little boy brushes
past our table, his
brown curls bouncing.
He slams down a pizza
box in front of his dad.
“Pizza delivery!” he says.
His voice is the cheerful
chirp of an early
morning songbird.
His dad opens the box.
It only contains
a few grease stains.
“It’s the pizza monster!
He’s gonna get you!”
The monster’s jaws clench
on dad’s arm
with a cardboard crunch.
He yelps and writhes
under its bite.
But the monster’s meal is short
and the beast is soon trashed.
It lives on
in the boy’s cheesy smile,
which follows them
into the parking lot.