I: Slaughter
Always the tidy start –
An alley walk
A short stalk
The lingering dream
Of a still,
Clean kill,
The neat click
Clack of my heels.
How sweet it feels.
I just wish
After the first
Thick swallow
I could re-train
Restrain
Before the frenzy unleashes
The demon blood-lust
And I descend
Into a blood-gush
Wallow.
II: Sonnet: Vampire Love
Sorry to text like this. I could be wrong,
But I get a vibe I’ve never felt before.
Even though I haven’t known you long
Nothing melts this straight dude’s core
Like those mesmerizing eyes.
It’s like you’re in my pulse, a throb, a beat.
Gotta ask. What workout made those thighs?
What supplements do you drink and eat?
It’s getting worse. I’m prone to verse
And a pounding kind of headache, heartache
Consumes my nights in a fevered wetdream curse.
I invite you in. I’m yours to take.
You want it too. I’ve seen you cruise me.
Fuck it man, don’t wait. Just juice me.
III: Night Garden
Bony twigs rattle in the nightwind,
The streetlight flickers twice.
A darkness gathers in darkness.
The heart feels a touch of ice.
Did a shadow shift in the garden?
Over there behind the shed
There’s a blacker shade of nothing
And a glint of ruby red.
Listen. The night is suddenly quiet.
The streets sound muffled, dead.
All you can hear is the pulse
Pulse, pulse of a creeping, beating dread.
A sudden wrinkle in night’s satin,
A spear like lust that thrusts to the core,
Then a thunder of invisible wings
And you’re lost in a feeding that always wants more.
A sharp pain, a sick faint, a fade,
The buckle of knees and melt of spine,
It has you. You give it your all.
You have one last crazy thought, “You’re mine.”
Bony twigs rattle in the nightwind,
The streetlight flickers twice.
A darkness gathers in darkness.
And a heart has turned to ice.
IV: Power Drain
Congratulations on your promotion.
The title fits like your Savile Row suit.
Alone in your executive suite,
Your shoulders seem broader,
Your grin brighter, a little smug,
Your eyes are pinpoint cruel
Awash in the power-drug.
I’ve been following your scent through the city
Falling in love with your sleek silk tie
And well-marbled throat.
I know you’ve sensed me right behind you,
When you look over your shoulder
In the darkling parking garage
I’m what you are looking for.
I’m the sudden chill in the air,
The unexplained whiff of corruption,
I’m the fate that’s on your trail
I never fail
I’m here, my friend,
As close as the curtain behind your chair,
But you won’t see me till I’m ready.
You’re almost perfectly my type,
Just getting ready to rot,
Loving your own hype
I’m only waiting for you
To
Get
Ripe.
Jon Bell 