An Old Vampire

There once was an
Old vampire
Who slept under the stairs
At the Witch House
As it is known in the neighborhood
When the Sun went down
He would rise from his pallet
- he had been too poor
... when he died for a
... proper coffin
... and found his pauper's box uncomfortable
... plus no room for it anyway -
He headed out into
The night
Not to hunt, but to work
As he was a night watchman
In order to make money
To help keep the Witch House
Going
The job is nice and quiet
In an old art deco building
Built over a displaced graveyard
So there are ghosts to keep him company
And play tricks on him
The tasks are not over taxing
So that his blood intake
Can be sporadic
And he doesn't need to fill
For being a gentle soul
- if it can be said
... that vampires have
... souls -
He abhors violence
- also having broken
... one of his fangs -
"Where does he get blood?"
You may ask
Within the fetish community
There are occasional volunteers
Or the thrill seekers
Here and there
Or stumbling upon a suicidal
Lost soul
"But doesn't that expose him?"
You say?
But who believes in vampires
After all?
His house is mostly safe
What with witches
And a werewolf,
Living under the same roof
The only trouble being one
Pesky, oblivious mortal
Self-absorbed in his neuroses
Funny how much more trouble
These mortals can be
His companion
And long time cuddle buddy
A cat
Brought to him by
The Goddess
With whom he bonded
So strongly
Her spirit remained
After her physical demise
The house does get
A variety of guests
Such as the werewolf's
Child
Who is also a shapeshifter
But of a different kind
The werewolf
And his witch wife
Help out the old
Vampire
When he can't
Manage stuff
Sort of adopting him
So his un-life goes on
While he reads voraciously
Listens to all kinds of music
And having lived through
The inventions of
Film and television
All the way up to
Streaming
He amuses himself
Well enough
And believe it or not
He has a particular
Fondness
For vampire stories
Whether good or bad

I am a hitch-
Hiker mis-
Guided on the mis-
Information Super-
Duper Highway

"NONCONFORMITY"

I cannot conform
It's not just a stance
I'm just not able to
Catholic school tried
To break me
As Mother Superior put it
To my Mom
Humiliation in class
From instructors
Leading to bullying
From my "peers"
Some years later
Medication was tried
But I just had "visions"
That made me react to
Revelations
With "Been there, done that,
Not impressed"
Wanting to attract girls
Didn't work either
Or trying to keep a job
There were more tests
From which I was told
I was lazy
Tho' the tellers were
Less active than I
Therapy lead nowhere
As well
I didn't want to be an
Outsider
I just could not
Conform
As I aged
I befriended other
Misfits
But then married a
Wannabe conformist
She failed to get me
To use that posture, too
And so I remain
Undisposed
Unrepentant
Unseemly
Unessential
But also not uniform

Man in the Moon ('04)

He laid his face upon Her breast,
Forever more there to rest.

untitled limerick

There once was a woman named Rowling
At nonconformity she's constantly scowling
Supporting the patriarchy
Her feminism malarkey
And to many fans her legacy fouling

THE V.I.P. (Village Idiot President) (version 2)

Oh, he's really such a bore,
He makes me want to snore,
What is his drivel for,
This stupid attention whore

untitled

I am like a drunken sailor
On the stormy seas of Fate
A kite without a string
Seeing where the winds take me