HAMMER HOUSE OF HORRORS

i find myself staring for hours
at a reflection that is neither me,
nor christopher lee
i don't recognise myself
while outside lon chaney junior
is running up & down the garden path howling
is this real life?
or is it just fantasy?
my hands struggle for control of my windpipe . . .
was i born to run or kill?
boris karloff is making pop tarts in my kitchenette
the hammer is coming down
say did you ever see – rock on
its not so easy to strangle yourself
bela lugosi says to me
expertly flossing his fangs
while outside wise people stay off the moors
a disposable razor is no use at all
not to the disposable
while outside i can hear the mob baying for the monster's blood
light or dark has no effect
on peter cushing or vincent price
they have armchairs & the sunday funnies
i have a reflection i don't know – look into my eyes
it says to me . . .
only, i cant anymore.