Vampires

They have put me in a room where
white curtains meet white walls,
where white lights glare down
from ceilings like irradiated flies.


They have strapped me to a bed
that I might take my rest
in waiting while the ventilation moans.
The cries!  It cries.


They have shown me pictures of my lovers
and my lovers as they died;
taken all my memories, twisted them,
and spoken just of lies.


They have caged a cricket
and placed it by my side,
that by it alone I'll know
when day is passing into night.


They feed me enough to keep me
healthy and alive, to prick me
and to bleed me dry through
tubes that wend into another room.


They pretend that they have left me
alone to hear the cricket singing,
but I can feel them sucking,
taking turns on the plastic tubes.