MY MELANCHOLY VAMPIRE

Don’t forget, friend,
You’re so dour
You don’t even laugh at yr own jokes,
Or don’t you get them?
.
When you nightly set out
Under a mighty moon
To brighten and heat
Yr best features,
Yr long face goes on & on
Though the shadows are gone
And it’s distant stare
Doesn’t stop at dead stars
But goes to their backrow bleachers.
.
He’s aroused as the voices
In trees, on the breezes
Distract him post haste w/ poetries,
Extracting his true face, those ghosts in a wind.
Mostly, They’ll lift him,
But their leverage runs thin.