Frankenstein
By Christina Schmitt
It is 2018, the 200th anniversary of Mary Shelley’s novel,
Frankenstein.
It is 1818 and mad Chemist Victor Frankenstein steps back from the lab table,
Covered in blood that is not his own.
Instruments of life scattered all over the kitchen floor,
His apartment is a literary landscape of graveyard bodies, when
One of them starts breathing.
Heart being, he stares up from the ground where he lies at his creator’s feet.
Frankenstein decides to play God today.
Plays lab coat dress up
Breathes life into creation and
Abandons it
Frankenstein, the ghost of Mary Shelley’s literary challenge,
Teaches us what happens when
We abandon what we create.
It is 1945 and President Truman steps back from the situation room
Covered in blood that is not his own.
He paints landscapes of obituary innocence, is
Astounded at mad chemist’s ability to animate metal
leaves tools of destruction all over the kitchen floor.
America woke up and decided to play God today
Decides who gets to live today
Peers over the world map chess game
And checks Hiroshima like it is Sunday afternoon, like
We are Frankenstein, like
We don’t have to take responsibility for our creation.
It is 1962 and Rachel Carson slits Silent Springs from her wrists
Watches rivers of red seep into soil
Prays to god to hold America accountable.
When god does not, she does.
She calls America to trial for identity theft.
For playing God.
For abuse.
For using alternative facts
For saying rivers have always run synthetic pesticides
She calls Flint Michigan for an eyewitness account.
She calls America to trial for abandonment
For leaving earth bleeding
All over the kitchen floor
For forgetting what happened to Frankenstein, that
If you do not take responsibility for creation
It will kill you.
It is November 2016
And America steps back from the ballot box
Blood all over the voting booth.
It is January 2017
And poet puts America on trial
For abandonment
For neglect
For not wanting to talk about the mess all over the kitchen floor
For social media crux instead of showing up
When you do not show up
You die at the hands of your creation
It is March 2018 and
17 more students die at the hand of animated metal
Covered in blood that is their own
It is 1818
And Frankenstein cowers from the creature he created
Who killed everyone he loves.
Who will kill him.
Who thunders,
“You may be my creator, but I am your master”
Frankenstein learns the hard way.
That creation is not play-thing.
That playing God has consequences.
Frankenstein does not live to learn from his mistakes.
It is Halloween 2018 and there is a monster at my door.
He is painted green,
bolts protruding from his neck
Hair black and slicked back.
He calls himself Frankenstein.
Silly boy.
Frankenstein is not that monster.
Frankenstein plays lab coat dress up.
Calls himself God.
Is charged with abandonment by the abandoned.
Silly boy, this monster dies
at his hands of neglect
He is mess all over the kitchen floor
Always covered in the blood that is not his own.
It is 2018, the 200th anniversary of Frankenstein.
And what have we learned?
Christina Schmitt is a graduate student at Emory University studying Theology and Ethics. She writes around the intersection of theology, ethics, and feminism. She is previously published in Voices of Resistance: An Anthology by Sister City Connection.
Monster image credit: Reclining Nude by Pablo Picasso, 1932.