Let’s talk about driving in the morning sun,
cruising on the highway, avoiding truckers.
What do you want from me, blood? You can’t have none.
Goddamned wretched vampire mother fuckers.
Maniacs in gargantuan vehicles
made of hot steel and flammable gasoline
perch twelve inches from my bumper. Evil souls.
They’d drive up my tailpipe with no vaseline.
Most pretend to be annoyed when I motion
for them to honk their horns. Liars! They love it
so much they keep giant bottles of lotion
in secret compartments with Lyle Lovett
cassette tapes and pictures of dead relatives
so they can touch themselves and avoid chafing.
A mix of amphetamines and sedatives
keep speed levels at 70. Amazing.

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