by Nick Gisburne
Your bootleg resurrection is complete.
Complete success, though maybe not for you.
That overwhelming eagerness to eat
Will never be relieved by steak, or stew.
Remember you were dead, but now you’re not?
And when I said the surgery was cheap?
You lost a little blood. In fact, a lot.
You’ll chuckle when I tell you this. Or weep.
We had to call for backup: Doctor Vlad.
It’s why you’re in a coffin, and it’s night.
Your future isn’t altogether bad,
Unless you see a crucifix, or light.
I’ve brought you something: Jessica, a snack.
You’ll know you’re full when both your eyes turn black.
