Happy Halloween! Have some Halloween-themed poems I wrote for my Creative Writing class.

BLOODY MARY

Give me your tongue

I’ll keep it safe

Slurp your scream

Scrape your lungs

My hands are soft

To touch your neck

It won’t hurt, I promise

Breathe deep and count slowly

Lights out, my little ones.

  LOCH NESS MONSTER

I like the ladies wet

Slick legs, thin feet

Hair like the fins on my back

Men are too hard

They give me stomachaches

My burps bubble up to the surface

Trick the silly tourists

Intrigue the conspiracy nuts

I’m just trying to make a living, man.

Put the fucking camera down.

  DRACULA

Keep the Thermostat low

I like it cold

Like the marble of my skin

Or the linoleum of your floor

Don’t latch the window

It screws up my mojo

To crouch like an idiot and pick the lock

Your husband is out

You’re lonely

You need me

Just a nibble

Your left earlobe

Your soft stomach

Slurp, slurp.

Delicious.

  WOLFMAN

Humans taste like beef jerky

Hard and salty

Too much to crunch

Deer is best

But when the night is new

And the moon is screaming

The deer aren’t as much fun to chase

They crunch through the underbrush

Innocent and sweet

They only whine when I bite

Humans thrash and cry

Make the chase worthwhile

Snap into a Slim Jim.

  WITCH

Hansel and Gretel, my ass.

I like steak just as much as the next girl

And cheesecake and French fries

Stupid kids.

My nose ain’t huge and covered in warts

I don’t even like hats

I’m 24 and gorgeous

But I’m not Sandra Bullock

Or god forbid Nicole Kidman

American movies

Are better off

With Hugh Jackman

Slicing through Mr. Hyde

And leaving the real witches

To the real bitches.

So my Creative Writing teacher challenged us to write a short story in fifteen minutes that starts with "The first/second/last time I met..."

The first time I met Dracula, we were both drunk.

Fifth of vodka and two Heineken. Stupid, right, but Old Fangface said he missed the illusions of happiness that a buzz created, so I cracked open a bottle and he cracked open a vein in my arm. It was weird. My Dad, the original Wolfman, told me to stay away from him but tell any eighteen-year-old to stay away from anything and you might as well tell them to run headfirst into its arms. His were cold, by the way.

The second time I met Dracula, I had snuck outside to hunt deer and he followed me, concerned for my welfare, he said. I told him I did it all the time on my own and he didn't believe me until I caught a fawn right in front of him. He called my technique "sloppy" and I told him his cape made him look like an idiot. We both ended up laughing at the ridiculousness of our statements. He promised not to tattle if I promised I'd come to his 700th birthday party. No skin off my back. I said I'd go. Stupid, right? Maybe my Dad was onto something when he said once you go Drac, you never go back. Then again, that's just silly.

The last time I met Dracula, it was dark and I was trying to find a light switch but I found him instead. I was too used to being caught off guard by then so I wasn't surprised when he kissed me. People said he was a predator, a bloodsucking monster who captured the young and innocent and stole their warmth for his own. They said he was older than time, but I felt a desperate youth in that kiss that made the rumors melt away. He didn't want my blood, he wanted my life--my light, my air, my bullheaded foolishness. You spend too many centuries alone and you forget what it's like, he told me. Then he smiled and ran his fingers through my hair and sent me home. I never saw him again.

But he probably saw me.

---

Thoughts? This one was on a whim and we were timed for each paragraph. I'm such an oddball. Give me a time limit and my brain goes to incredibly weird places. Of the two pieces, I think the first one that I posted is the better idea for a work, but this one ended up being executed better.