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Lee Nance

Looking for Love in the Murder Capital of the World
 
Pt. I: Don’t ever invite a vampire into your house — everyone knows that 
​

A lost boy once took my hand and said I was his only noodle
                             took my hand and said just you
                             took my hand and said bottoms up
                                                                       it’s only a drink
                                                                       it’s only a bridge
                                                                       it’s only a night out, nothing to worry about
but it turns out he preferred a different noodle
                           or maybe she was his only grain of rice
                           or maybe I’m not a noodle at all
                           or maybe he’s a maggot
                                maybe he’s a creature of the night
                                                     a goddamn shit-sucking vampire
                                                                                                                (he always had bad breath)
you know, this place was the hottest resort in Santa Carla about 85 years ago
you know, this place used to be ours
                                                                                                           too bad we built it on a fault
 
Pt. II: Initiation’s over 

All you do is give attitude lately
                                                                                                vampires have such rotten tempers
you think you’re cool, don’t you?
well now I know what you are
        now I know what you tried to turn me into
                 and yeah I guess I blew it, man
                                  I guess I lost it
                                  I guess I unraveled in the face of the enemy
                                                                   though to be fair, he did pull a mind-scramble on me
                                                                                 to be fair, he did open his eyes and talk

but lucky for me, you missed sucka!
       lucky for me, I didn’t invite you this time
       lucky for me, it’s my turn and you’re history, buddy
                                                                                                                                     so burn rubber!!!
and if you ever come back here I’ll stake you without even thinking twice about it
​        if you ever come back here I’ll make you drink holy water, death-breath
                                                                                                                            (a little vampire humor)
to the cats I say: we’re on our own — just the way we like it
to the cats I say: um, can I sleep in here with you tonight?
                                                                                                                          time to activate Plan B

Pt. III: This one could save your life 

O Moonbeam, O Moonchild
O God of Sex — S-A-X — God of Sax
                 mane slicked back, chest glistening in the firelight like a thousand stars
                 you know, it’s been a long time since somebody asked me to go to dinner 
                 
so shake your sweaty hips and tell me --
                                                                                              could you ever love a worm like me?
                                                                                                        inquiring minds want to know
 
come on, take me to the boardwalk
                 take me to the video store
                 take me to the diet frozen yogurt bar
                                                                                                                 are we having fun or what? 
take me to your cave
take me to your canopy bed
                                                                                             (that’s as close to town as I like to get)
talk to me about frogs, brother
talk to me about very serious books, man
talk to me about Rob Lowe’s white tank top, Mr. Phoenix
                                                                               Mr. Earring
                                                                               Mr. Brand New Leather Jacket
talk to me about The Texas Chainsaw Massacre
talk to me about truth
                   about justice and the American way
                   about how people are so, so strange
                   about how far you’re willing to go
                                                                                           I want you to pay close attention
take off your glasses and look at me like a baby pussycat
take off your glasses and look at me like a normal human woman
                                                                  like you’re at the mercy of your sex glands
                                                                  like you care so much about me
                                                                  like I’ll always be that girl from the boardwalk
                                                                  like this won’t ever hurt
don’t turn on the light
just build me a blazing fire and feed me root beer and double-thick Oreo cookies
just draw me a hot bubble bath and climb on in
        tell me that we’ll never grow old
        tell me that we’ll never die, but if we must
                     that we’ll die simultaneously
                                            staked to the same stereo
just sing to me, please, sing to me about people like us and places like this
                                                              about heartache and hope and pain and grief
                            remind me why, amidst all these bloodsuckers
                                                                      all these hounds of hell
                                                                      all these damn vampires
                                                                                                                     I really do still believe


Lee Nance lives and writes in Los Angeles with her cat daughters, Parker Pawsey and Catrick Swayze.
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