22. We're surrounded by vampires:

the teenager who lies to his mother
about the stain on his collar,

the librarian nursing a tomato juice at the bar
(you really think it's a man she's after?),

the politician who shouts blood-sucking
capitalist pigs!, his voice shaking

with terror or hunger.  But they're a lunatic fringe.
No one you know is a neck-munch.

Still, you hang a crucifix on your ceiling.
Still, you gargle with garlic every morning.

When you read an article about a city
of dusk and coffins and immortality,

you feel it twist,
the bat in your chest.