Plastic Fangs Are Far Simpler

Last night I met a vampire
Whilst walking down the street,
His teeth were smartly filed,
Appearance nice and neat.
He raised his evening hat
For he saw we were the same
And I could not help but ask
The delightful creature’s name.
“Lestat,” was his reply,
Rather common for his kind,
It has overtaken Dracula
As the first that comes to mind.
But something of his tone
Made me continue down this track
And enquire where he was going
Dressed from head to toe in black.
“To the graveyard,” said he
And I slowly shook my head,
Did he really think that vampires
Find any pleasure in the dead?
A most peculiar boy indeed,
So I let him on his way;
Plastic fangs would be far simpler
Than sharpened teeth any day.
The young have such ideas
And illusions of the night,
Whilst the old have no such drama
And in fiction find no fright.
A stereotypical vampire
The mortal boy had been,
But if all vampires were so
They would never walk unseen.
I, on the other hand, am real
Although the boy would never know
That he’d spoken to a vampire
Born a thousand years ago.
I strolled on in my mini skirt
That barely touches my thighs,
In it men pay scant attention
To my teeth and blood red eyes.

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