Boogeymen and Vodka

I get too restless at three AM,
so I take a walk.
Vodka in hand,
I stroll through the black night,
and I'm scared.
I realize I always am fearful
of some horror or another
watching,
waiting,
hungry,
dead,
and real.

A man,
silhouetted in the yellow lamplight,
a shadow.
He should not be out so late
just standing there
in the dark.
I stop,
and his demonic posture
speaks volumes to me
of terror and devilish cravings
on this empty street.

His back is to me,
and I know he sees me
somehow,
with some otherworldly sense,
Satanic and awful.
When he turns,
his thin body moves,
closing the distance
between us.
It is two steps
before he says to himself,
"I'm so fucking drunk."
And pukes his guts out.
I guess we were the only
monsters
out that night.