(I wrote this poem, and it STILL scares me!)
Vampire Meets Maiden
Old cruncher stalks the midnight prize. He knows
she's out there, a juicy warmblood
whose neck is his perfect small world:
white earth of flesh, rock of bone,
and luscious vein tributaries
sleek with red. He turns a corner
and there she is, a lone lamb-girl
strolling home with dreaming gait.
"Look at the darling stranger," he thinks,
"so adorably helpless,
and her tender meat, soon to be mine.
God bless the meek, who die so young.
Will she beg, cry? Her terrified eyes implore?"
His claws unsheathe with switchblade clicks.
His sideburns swell, his pulses cry NOW.
She looks up
and there at last he is, the dark real thing.
Slowly, voluptuously, he bends his lip
to her nectar neck, drives his nails
through the lace at her breast, and feels---
"SWEET JESUS!" he screams in his head.
"PLEASE TELL ME THAT'S NOT FUR!"
But already he dangles from her iron wrist
like a dolly. He's eaten alive
by her eyes, steel brilliants
in a hairy angel face. She licks his cheek slowly
like the sweetest plum, breathes
"Marry me, bloodsucker-boy?" Her wolf-teeth gleam.
He thinks, "I'm dead." She bounds away for home.
He's lashed across her body like a dead rabbit
as the werewolf bride
springs to her den
over the dark earth, through wind and storm.
Mashed to his ear is a terrible nuptial drum:
boom. Boom. BOOM!!!