My Melancholy Vampire

June 2, 2010

Don’t forget, friend,

You’re  so  dour

You don’t even laugh at yr own jokes,

Or don’t you get them?


When you nightly set out

Under a mighty moon

To brighten and heat

Yr best features,

Yr long face goes  on & on

Though the shadows are gone

And it’s distant stare

Doesn’t stop at dead stars

But goes to their backrow bleachers.


He’s aroused as the voices

In trees, on the breezes

Distract him post haste w/ poetries,

Extracting his true face, those  ghosts in a wind.

Mostly,  They’ll lift him,

But their leverage runs thin.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: