New Yorker Nosferatu

New Yorker Nosferatu

“And when he had crossed
the bridge, the phantoms
came to meet him”
—F.W. Murnau,
Nosferatu (1922)

My dear fellow—blood-sucking insomniacs
May I share with you—something you know
As immortal beings—suffering day to day
And night to night—knowing what we know

Death of centuries!—Moonstalkers! Blasphemers!
Vampires! Vases of prehistory—finally to Earth
And finally born again—thanks to Murnau and
His cameras and lights—his nouveau film noir

I hadn’t had servants—in over 400 years
And then Murnau comes—to my penthouse
And I must convince him that—I am just a man
A man like any other man—like he is a man

Except I’m eternally dead—New York City hasn’t
Quenched my thirst for blood—for many centuries
Can I even remember—the last time I tasted it?
How to select sailors & hustlers? And the rest of it?

How to act like a prince—how to live like one
I remember my first glory—my armies & retainers
I once drank from golden chalices—sweetest wine
Reduced now to—being New Yorker Nosferatu

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