Thursday! 2-52: A Hiatus Week Poem -- The Vampire House
V2, I52
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How cool is it that Thursday! has gone two years? Very cool, I say, and I’m grateful to each of you who gives me a chunk of your week and each of you who has supported me with your monthly patronage and your comments and e-mails of encouragement. Stick around, would you? Bring some friends along from time to time. I figure the third year of Thursday! ought to be even better than that last two as I try out new things, keep what works and junk what doesn’t.
A couple things you can expect to see more this coming year are original stories and poems. Not only will you get more of Red and Hosanna1, but…well, I can’t exactly say what you might see because I don’t exactly know. What I do know if I have some stories to share and I want to share them with you. Here. Like friends around a campfire. Substack can handle audio, so you might just hear me read a few things of mine, too2. Christmas is coming3, which means you might just get a scary ghost story or two, in the best British tradition.
Now, though, it’s time for a poem. This one comes from the same Folder of Misfit Creations as last week’s story4 but comes with a creepier, Halloween vibe. There’s a house, there’s a vampire in the house, there’s a narrator who just can’t stay away from the house. The meter and rhyme schemes aren’t exactly traditional, but they move in a way I rather like, especially when it’s read out loud.
Poetry, as a rule, ought to be read aloud.
Ready? Let’s go.
The Vampire House
Do not go in the Vampire House, they said. The vampire who lives there is very hungry. His teeth are sharp and white. They long to clash and bite. He will not quit until he is well-fed. They told the story often late at night To scare the younger boys and girls quite badly They'd yell it wasn't real. No vampires there, they'd squeal. But I knew better. I had braved the fright. A year ago I'd gone into the house Without a cross or stake to keep me comp'ny I carried but one thing Tied up with butcher's string. So quietly I crept in like a mouse. The bright moon shone through dusty window panes Shadows hid terrors around every corner But I was barely scared Even though I had dared To risk the blood that ran inside my veins. The vampire stepped into the moonlit hallway His cloak as black as night, heavy as death. "My name is Vlad," said he. "I’m glad you’ve come to me. I’ve had a taste for fresh, young blood all day." "W–wait a minute! Look at this," I told him. My knees shook like they'd never shook before. "I've brought you a good meal A sandwich of rare veal. On bread so good it’s gonna make your head swim." I set the package for him on the floor And backed away as he smelled bloody meat. He tore it open quick Gave his lips a lick And in a blink the sandwich was no more. He smiled and turned his dead-eyed gaze on to me. "That was quite good but you will soon be next! For I still want dessert And I would be quite hurt If you thought you were fast enough to flee." He stepped toward me and raised his wicked hand As if to clutch and drain my body dry. But then he gasped and jerked His lips soundlessly worked. And he fell over dead. Again. As planned. See, I knew that his hunger was another Of his weaknesses, like sunlit dawn. The bread that held the veal Had been toasted with zeal With garlic, diced and melted into butter. The vampire had in all his pride and haste Eaten the sandwich in one greedy bite. He hadn't even found The poison I brought round. He ate so fast he had no time to taste. The Vampire House has been at rest a while Though stories told about it still bring fear. But when those tales are told In October nights so cold I pull my new black cloak quite close and smile
See? I haven’t forgotten!
Though Patrons get occasional special videos where I say hello, share a couple things in my life, and read one of my works. Videos are a Patron-only sort of thing, so if that intrigues you, you know what to do!
Though not before Thanksgiving and I don’t care how quickly the rest of the world wants to speed by that wonderful celebration of gratitude, I won’t!
If you didn’t read that story, GO BACK AND READ IT BECAUSE IT IS QUITE GOOD!