my father is a vampire

My Father Is a Vampire

My father is a vampire,
He endured one day in the hospital,
took blood platelets and left.

My mother is a harpy,
I’m saying that because of her claws
and the words sunk in my brain.

My bully is a bully,
I didn’t see the rest of her,
just her hirsute hair and spongy eyes.

My self is a poet
because of the fire
this triad set inside of me.

Ring Ring- jumps on the ocean – shines hard to get momentum – reaches destination
Voice is young on the line - voice is busy-breathless, tells the story of
Fire Frog!
Who came to the hospital /to get blood / left all bloated with /
my queries / what’s the old frog’s room number? / just need a quick croak.  
But I suck on it / silence rots my teeth / the nurse’s sigh wipes the crackling
They didn’t tell you?
He left.
He got transfused and got the fuck out.
Your Dad is a bloodsucker and/
Since the click, I didn’t find anything else to do
But contemplate the nugget,
this microscopic golden nugget on my ceiling, forever asking:
What do nurses know? 

Sophie Ann Hinkson spent much of her life in France, where she worked as a bookseller and literary journalist for both magazines and radio. Now based in Chicago, she teaches French and is currently pursuing a Low-Residency MFA in Creative Writing at the University of California Riverside. Her fiction has appeared in Midwest Weird and Night Shades Magazine, and her poetry in Raging Opossum Press Magazine and SARKA. At home, she shares her life with her husband, a black cat, and six pet rats.