Vampyre's Gala; The Third Witch by Kenneth Vincent Walker

Vampyre’s Gala

Hear ye, O hear ye of

The Vampyre’s Gala;

Dancing, frolicking, to

The wee morning hours.

Drinking, debauchery,

Music aplenty, as razor-

Sharp canines lusting

A taste for the unusual;

Blood, blood to be exact,

Extracted from those so

Expectedly unsuspecting;

Guests to the event which

On the surface seems so

Elegant, overwhelmingly

Tempting; yet supper, it

Shall be served later as

Hunger mounts and shall

Not relent. The evening’s

Anticipation, the wait, shall

Be well spent; continuing

On onto the main event.

The Third Witch

The air was musty, thick

As Blackstrap Molasses;

Everything in this decrepit

Kitchen had a stale odor, a

Dusty gray covering layers

Of white paint. Surrounded

By three, demented, white-

Haired, elderly women who

Were robust and sturdy as

They leaned heavily upon

My buoyant frame in a slow

Churning methodical motion.

Individually, neither one had

The power to knock me off

Balance; yet together they

Held me upright as if I were

Wading through wet cement.

There were three, but I only

Saw two, wrinkled, weather-

Worn, faces while I felt an

Excruciating pain radiating

From the knuckle of my right

Hand. I still to this day don’t

Know how I got away and

Escaped and made it home

Before dark with teeth marks

Embedded within my skin; a

Souvenir that won’t ever mend.

Kenneth Vincent Walker is a "New Formalist" poet, spoken word artist, performer and author of Borderline Absurd (An Exercise in Rhyme and Reason), published by Poem Sugar Press/ Community Arts Ink, 2015. Originally from Buffalo, NY, and completing his higher education in Canada, Kenneth currently resides in South Central Pennsylvania where he performs his eclectic brand of poetry throughout the region along with his many published pieces in various literary journals, webzines and blogs. Also one of Kenneth's specialties is dark poetry and his podcasts may be accessed on Spotify.