The Mourning After the Night of the Living Dead

Or: Sometimes It Sucks To Be A Vampire
This poem first appeared in Weird Tales, Fall 2002 (Issue #329)

Eternal life ain’t all fun and glory,
Far too often it’s dark and gory.
For I’ve a habit I’ll never lose,
A drinking problem worse than booze.
Many times I’ve tried to quit,
Said, never again, this is it.

But sadly, then I pause and think,
There’s no harm in one final drink.
And all too quickly I’m in trouble,
As my single becomes a double.
In my casket after, I’ll turn and toss,
With dreams of garlic, stake, and cross.

Later, aching head and bloodshot eye
Will leave me wishing that I might die.
But for me, it’s never dust to dust,
For with night’s return, then rise I must,
And fight against my dreadful thirst,
Knowing blood hangovers are the worst.

Poems Copyright © Kelly McCullough 2001-2005. May not be reproduced without the author’s permission.