the truth about vampires, short version (or: making up for impatience, zeal, killing frightened animals)

you wolf, you vulture, you angel eater
made of dogs and bits of your betters
you know the scent of dark skin weeping
and when you smell it you come running

you sad excuse, you forgotten machine
your ribs cage an animal old and obscene
you may wear a fragile human raiment
but you spray godblood all over the pavement