Dracula Vs. The Law of Conservation of Matter
November 29th, 2009 by genelewis | 1 Comment | Filed in poemsImmortality was a blast, at first.
He didn’t mind the clammy skin that charred in sun,
Nor even the bone-deep chill,
Until the transformation.
A startled reflex at a lunging dog, and it was done:
Excess skin and bones and meat sloughed to the ground,
His former flesh a canine feast, and him a flying thing,
A bat.
But turning back, that was the catch.
With so little left to stitch the tissues of a man
He was stretched thin, empty and brittle, a papery balloon
Who knows only the all-consuming impulse to consume.
Now he dreams to be, from toes to top, remoistened and engorged,
But lacking guts to process what he eats, he is obliged
To feed through pointed teeth, as through a straw,
Sip by sip by sip by sip by sip.