The vampire is too cool for my blood, all latex and disco toilet stalls.
As for the lycanthrope, he gets his breaks so not my heart.
But zombie, you body tomb, you are the greatest horror by far,
Victim of somnambulist botulism, the catatonic cotillion,
Who voodoo will not leave be or undo.
I have been of your rank, a plate-eyed foot shuffler
Not entirely of my own command, not for what held me
But because I had yet to let go.
Undead! No pill will fix, no sleep or eat can blunt or reprieve
Giving it the once over, two, twenty times.
(There is scant pleasure in losing one’s mind
Captive in a corporeal three-piece)
It was good to know you. It was nice to make your acquaintance.
A rampage would have been refreshing. So goes romance.