PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He preyed upon the girl, and, later, broke her;
then tossed her off.  The act was unrepented,
because, as he explained, she had consented
and shyly offered him the invitation.
Admitted pervert in the House of Lords,
bearing a title of nobility,
he boasts of harsh exploits, too publicly,
around the club and acting company.
Concealed behind the gilt his rank affords,
his presence is dark, wicked and malign.
Young girls succumb to his seductive power;
yet most men think him selfish, grim, and sour,
fetid like gangrened flesh, or cheaper wine
gone over.  He excites your righteous hatred
as he pursues each ghastly assignation
with devilish devotion unabated.
A bully's soul, expressed as dominance,
jackbooted with a braggart's arrogance
toward most, he thinks most (like you) are beneath
his notice.  He knows he can make you seethe,
just as he knows his tendencies and style
are God-damned and arachnid, foul and vile.
And yet, what simile or metaphor
explains his evil, evening the score?
What mythic nightmare is as coldly cruel---
no, not a demon, incubus, or ghoul;
but something too exactly like a man,
something that goes where almost any can;
a walking pestilence, plague, and disease
that only total sacrifice can please;
something that represents Hell's worst desire . . .

what Polidori thought of, a vampire . . .

and there you have your monster, Mr. Stoker.