El Vampiro

I come to your house looking for you
but find only your middle child
seeking visions.
I call you by your given name.
You do not come out.
The doors are unlocked and
a
mangey
bird
sits
by the window you left open.
It says,
Camp out overnight! for surely
the man enamored by darkness
shall then return.
The life of the room is
antique
and
dusty
I clean on my hands and knees, &
at dusk, you finally call.
You were abroad with your mother
blood in your mouth & a coffin
by your bedside, a tiny demon
encroaching on her bagpipe womb.
I
thought
I
told you,
snarling at others is dangerous, but
you were never one to be afraid—
I knew it was trouble from the phone call
for your mother, who is dead,
only visits you when you are
suffering. I look through your things:
cards,
papers,
jewels,
they tell me where to find you.
I follow you to the bridge
where you are playing the hangman
and your mother is three birds on a beam.
I send a hand towards you—

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: