Injunction in My Sickness

This is an odd combination of being-struck-by-an-idea-at-midnight thirty-and-having-to-scribble-before-you-go-back-to-bed and saying-the-same-thing-you-read-from-threeotherpoets-somewhere-along-the-way.  Maybe all poems are like that and I didn’t notice before.

I am thinking of no other Van Helsing but the original in Bram Stoker’s book, who knew what he was up against and took the right shield against it.

Once more take up the knife,
                        and slice and stab,
the thing yet lives!  Give it a truthfilled jab –
A squeamish business, this, but needful in my mind;
Van Helsing taught how mortal blows are kind
And this desire was dead a thousand days
                        yet still returns,
was drowned three times but still the fire burns.
Take the last breath, perform the desperate surgery
and kill the traitor heart that beats in me.

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