Crime

This is a poem I made about people who get involved with drugs or gangs, or if their lives are just messed up, I hope you like it.

Blood, there was so much blood and she couldn't breath. She was running to fast and she couldn't slow down. She promised the woman she would bring help back, but how could she keep that promise.

The Publisher Demands

Dead in the house fire.
Nineteen seventy two.
A girl, six years old.
No remains.

Today.
The Father.
A man of sadness,
age and rheumatism,
celebrates her life.

Walking streets,

Life, death, and eventual revenge and justice in rural Louisiana

He stood,
at the bottom,
of the Helter
Skelter.

Waiting.

She will not be long,
he thought.
Then they can go,
get some candyfloss,
perhaps win a goldfish.

He pulled out his hand to reveal a waxy red appendage that no longer looked his own. The blood had congealed around knuckles and had created a network map on his palms.

Can such a story as this happen in any Canadian jail, where the rule of law is paramount? Only those with experience really know.

"Neighbourhood Watch is rubbish, how can a meerkat
see off a rottweiler?” I was dreaming at a beermat
of being Wat Tyler in a medieval queer hat,
spread-eagled on a castle

Judge Jolly

The result of an impulse seen from both sides.

He wrote so hard he must have imprinted half a dozen cheques beneath.

There are two ways to get someone out of their house.

Strange car tracks were found by the police like a hundred yards...

So this is the second bit, of three, from this weird thrillery thing I've been working on.

Inspiration point- 28/06/08, 20:08- Two stories in one mirror.

It's really about chocolate , isn't it?

As a cure for heaviness.

Hmmm... Marshall leaves the Tokyo Rose...

The title is found in Proverbs...