Vampires slip back into their coffins.
Werewolves revert to their human selves.
Ghouls lose their taste for human flesh.
The creature is back at the bottom of its lake,
and the bats are no longer biting.
without threat from a serial killer,
Bride of Dracula or closet monster.
Rifle armed with silver bullets,
strings of garlic,
I set them all aside
to sip coffee.
I take a shower.
I’m not bothered by any
crazy motel employee
with a mother fixation.
Blood doesn’t gush from the taps.
It’s a good twelve hours
until nightfall and the next viable threat.
it’s out on the highway,
job at the post office,
factories revving up,
fast food for lunch.
Come out everybody.
I assure you it’s safe.
And boring, besides.