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Lament of a London Vampire

The main thing is to get a good day’s sleep, Not always easy in a box of soil, Sleeping in my clothes, cob-webs on my cloak: What’s another day in all eternity? My death no nearer now: the stakes are low; It is nothing to me: please do not weep. But I hate lying on my back: I snore All day and drool in my unpleasant dreams, Then there is the need for bathroom visits, Not surprising, after drinking all night. Rising after sunset, in fading light, I brush my fangs; another toothbrush gone, Stare at the empty mirror on the wall, Wondering if the images I’ve seen Of me reflect the truth or tell more lies. Do I really look that pale? My regime For skin care’s been neglected, I’ll admit. In the streets outside, full of the living, I seek out dark and silent alleyways, Avoid a kebab shop’s garlic stench, Needing some sustenance; I want a drink, Oh any blood will do, if it is pure. Never very simple, unlike the times When I could prowl a village for a wench, Making sure she had no hidden crucifix, And as she swooned in my embrace, I’d check For healing hickeys rivalling my bite; Such were my joys. My needs were always met, Unlike today, when virgins are so rare, My thirst unquenched, unless I am the first. But where to look? Not so easy now; At one time convents were a safe-ish bet, Or rural revels where the maids would dance, Or sometimes, gatherings in temperance halls. But what with education and the Pill, Vying neck and neck for liberation, They fight me off with fists, they never faint; They use karate chops and kick and fight, And as I shrink from them with watering eyes, I’m certain this is not how it should be. It seems none fear my name, nor dread the night. Their cruel attitudes have stolen from me All sources of sanguinary delight. Somehow I get by, but maybe I’m done. Can a vampire turn vegetarian?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 4/6/2019 5:37:00 PM
What a wonderful creative piece of writing. Enjoyed it very much.
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