This diet of yours is so cool. Just a few pints a day
and I’m like really thin. My old boyfriends are totally
after me now, but no way! All they ever wanted was
you-know-what and make it quick. God, the way you
licked my wrist! You took hours.

I told my mom those holes in my neck were a fad,
like nose rings. She bought it! And don’t worry
about Dad. He’s so checked out, the walking
dead if you know what I mean.

I can’t wait for tonight, Count D. I love it
when you do that thing with your cape!
And then we have to chat. My folks are after
me to go to city college. But now I couldn’t
stay awake in class, anyway, and if I’m going
to live forever, what’s the hurry, right?

I’ve been thinking, though. I want to be special,
not just another long, white neck. Let’s face it. You’re
like 9000 years older than me. You’ve really been
around. So maybe when we fly back to your castle
in Pennsylvania, I should at least go to night school.

We’ll talk, okay? Right now I have to put the crucifix
away, throw a towel over the mirror, then get into
my jammies. Oh, and brush my teeth which, I have
to tell you, seems to take a little longer all the time.

By Ron Koertge from Geography of the Forehead
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.