“…the vampire that makes us behave ordains that we amuse ourselves
with what she doles out to us, or that we otherwise be more entertaining.”
Anguish by Rimaud
Your neck tempts me ensconced in cleric white;
I’d prefer a rebellious plaid—relax,
we bite less than you think.
Your hair I’d finger like strands of jet beads,
snaky, slick with lust, draped over your favorite icon—
but not today.
You keep your back to me, think yourself unique
but you’re mass-produced. Those seminaries—
cemeteries—discourage study, create countless
cadavers like you leading flocks astray, lacking
spiritual knowledge, perishing, powerless, unapproved,
secret agents for us.
I know your face (I get around) reflects
no sin or shame, only dumbly a belief
I don’t exist. Mistake. Keep your sanctuary
a bit longer, continue this charade, this pose
a la Magritte. Be aware. I can mirror Medusa and
know all the chinks in your armor.
One day I’ll return, take a sounding,
make you look: step on your stone
bones hollow sucked dry.
Linda Kennedy is a musician working in the Richmond, Virginia metropolitan area. She received the Leslie Shiel Scholarship for Creative Writing awarded to Writers Who Read through The Visual Arts Center of Richmond. Her poems have been honored by the The Virginia Poetry Society and published online and in print.