FUCK YOU, NOSFERATU
by and published in Edition Four of Pomegranate
The way you vampires chew on necks
Boring and sluggish as the Royal Box,
I fang on sluicing orange halves!
First I lay them out in a row
Next to the ashtray, or on
My mandolin case
Like you lay victims on chaises-longue
Tres elegante and tres messy.
Then I take a half in both hands
And wolf it dry!
And I can suck and suck to my heart’s content!
Oh keep your mausolea and give me an Orange tree
The spiced fruit hangs in bunches
Like ninety two pairs of seed spilling,
Dry humping testicles of the sun!
I have a watchtower pointed at my tree, you know.
Armed at night by a Special Forces Greengrocer,
Purple Heart, Orange Cross, M.sc., D.Phil.
So don’t be getting any sharp ideas, your Grace.
And tell those ‘Children of the Night’
To cheer up, their mothers are having a
Hell of a time.
Then I toss the husk over my shoulder
And gorge on her twin
Pure sunshine dribbles down my chin
Which I sometimes wipe off.
I can rip at the pith like veins,
And nobody dies this way!
And – AND – I can go out in the sunlight.
So fuck you, Nosferatu, and your candelabra,
And take off that hat,
You look silly.
Toby Tottle
Toby Tottle is 24, his favourite flight pattern in the animal kingdom is that of the duck and his poetry was featured in a collaberative publication by United Press in 2006. He only writes very, very serious poetry and says he’s only in it for the money.