The Vampire's Spa Day Dream
by Michael R. Burch

O, to swim in vats of blood!
I wish I could, I wish I could!
O, 'twould be
so heavenly
to swim in lovely vats of blood!

The poem above was inspired by a Josh Parkinson depiction of Elizabeth Bathory swimming up to her nostrils in the blood of her victims, with their skulls floating in the background. Keywords/Tags: vampire, vats, blood, swimming, spa, dream, Bathory, Halloween, grave, dead, undead, supernatural, superstition, evil, spirit, spirits, Dracula

Air with sinuous folds
flows fluid around me
thick with spring ebullience

each footstep more like
arm stroke
swimming languid
in spring itself

the expected hiss-splash
replaced by irrepressible birdsong
and a thrum of insect wings

I am under the ocean and
I can barely breath
I'm drowning from emotions
that are overtaking me
I need some air now
I need to breath
I need to get out of the water surrounding me
My eyes are burning
I can barely see
My skin is wrinkled
I can't feel a thing
Waves come to push me away
I'm keep trying to move forward
But I’m moving the wrong way
A part of me that wants quit swimming
Then I fall and see blue glistening

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a swimming companion when enjoying his pond.

It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.

What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.

Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.

I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.

But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.

Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.

End of the food chain

Tasty for lunch

There's a good reason

We swim in a bunch!

the sea as a reincarnation
reinvented by every soul that’s ever walked this earth
salt of the water tasting different to every mouth
waves roaring, breaking, whispering, blue, green, black
amidst them their lovers, their enemies
navy romantics and the art of drowning
a death at sea is like no death at all
the body just disappears, never to be found again
two lovers conquering the water,
the rebellious violent brutal cold salty water
they are but men, perfecting their craft
they are at swim, two boys.