David Hines (hradzka) wrote,
David Hines

APED: "standards"

If Edward Cullen weren't such a goddamned good-looking creep, TWILIGHT would have been the shortest book ever. Someday I will write the story of the hapless adolescent geek who gets himself vamped so he can get girls, only to discover that not only do they find him no more mysterious, fascinating, or sexually attractive than they ever did, he now bursts into flame on contact with sunlight, which makes things a real drag.

The thing in the night sat down by the bed
of Millicent Wendy Lestrade,
and it sighed from the hole where its head ought to be
and some bubbles and gurgles were made:
turned the stump of its head to the girl on the bed, and gurgled a chorus forlorn:
"Oh why don't you love me, my Millicent sweet?
I've loved you since ere you were born.

"I saw your sweet soul ere it came to the world,
and I followed it all the way down,
and I followed it to this country and state
and I followed it to this small town.
I stalked your dear ma, and I ate your old pa -- chewed him up, all in one go.
And I watched you get born, my Millicent sweet,
and I waited and watched you just grow."

And I stare at you nightly, while you lie asleep,
and glare at you all through the day,
and shun you and curse you and show you contempt
and all in the most loving way,
I do all of the things lovesick monsters should do, the things that should make young girls swoon --
Oh, why don't you love me, my Millicent sweet?
Just grant me that one little boon."

Young Millicent said to the thing by the bed,
"It isn't me, sweetie, it's you.
You're headless and brainless and hapless and hopeless,
and so you just really won't do.
I want a foul fiend who's selfish and mean, so get out and send Edward in --
he's a stalkery, selfish, mercurial creep,
but at least he's quite pretty, and thin."
Tags: a poem every day

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