Vampire Wedding In North Cornwall

The rock face has a sheen to it
filtering the moon
so the rough sea sparkles.

High in the hills
the guests have left
their otherworld

and descend for a midnight wedding
in the mansion of an actor
long-since dead.

Miss Carstairs arrives
in her best horse-drawn carriage
mingles uncertainly

with an ivory crucifix
secreted between
her breasts,

is introduced to Mr Crowley
of Tregerthen who tries to seduce her
with a love-apple.

It's an unforgiving occasion.
A string quartet plays
"I Love You So Much

I Want To Kill You"
and Reverend Ghost, sucking on a
cantaloupe, whispers

to anyone who will listen:
"The bride, you know - I had
her once. She's to die for."

The guests make their way
to the Red Corpuscle bar,
jive and whoop it up,

ask Igor the barman to fix them
something gangrene
on the rocks.

Miss Carstairs shadow-dances
with an acolyte
of the Dark Count -

prays the good Lord
will forgive her this
only sin.

The wedding cake is a monster -
a marzipan castle
in a Transylvanian forest

with a sugary quatrain
written in the frozen
waters of the moat.

Reverand Ghost doesn't lie -
the bride's a beauty, no doubt about it,
and carves the suckling pig

in her shimmering white dress.
"Thank you" she says
and licks her buttery fangs

smears fresh ruby lip-gloss
along the folds
of a recently-butchered hem.

The ocean rages
as the groom dances to
the Borgo Pass Jazz Trio.

The unhappy couple
are toasted with shots
of vodka and quince,

blessed with wild saffron
as they disappear
into the night -

a 1960s hearse clatters along
Cornwall's roads to Madame
Trevelyan's gothic honeymoon crypt.

In her handbag Miss Carstairs
has concealed a gun with a
loaded chamber of silver bullets.

Her garters hold two fresh
rump stakes fashioned
out of ash.

The fields are frosted.
The belfry bats encircle her carriage
like an accusing choir.

Miss Carstairs makes her excuses,
hurries to deliver
her wedding gift before dawn.