Boys -- and likely some girls--
Cant cook. No problem.
By adulthood, most were battle ready.
Oh so they say
You
A secret admirer that wanted to confess an attraction to her
Without her moving,
Gave her a little taste.
You
More of a socker than a rocker knew
How to catch your fish
You knew
She did not want to be fixed up with a man
"You have to be flattered"
Or so they'd say when you tried to seduce her
But you don't seduce
You lure women to your den
You tease them with sweets and false promises
"He'd lock the door and then you knew"
Slabs of mortadella.
Squash over lamb.
"He'd beat you and have sex with you and argue and fight, and then go play his music"
Pour out and discard fat
Whipped cream, strawberries and champagne
Mmm another taste.
Thor battling giants with a magical hammer
Or whatever you tell yourself
Treacherous hairpin curves
Drizzle with more oil and top with herbs.
"The car seemed to pull back into control. But then i realised it was picking up speed, going faster and faster toward a hair pin bend a couple of hundred yards in front."
You
Stabbed 28 times.
Stabbed 51 times,
Bashed in the head with a blunt instrument 13 times
Shot twice.
Slabs of mortadella.
Squash over lamb.
13 more.
Pour out and discard fat.
"I blew my horn" you said.
And all that combined killed her.
The cause of death: a toxic cock-tail
YOU ARE READING
Journal # ...
Acaka collection of poetry, short fiction, and jumbles thoughts typed up and released into the world because iv'e got nothing else to do, except homework but uhhh...... TRIGGER WARNING on the entire piece because you never know what can trigger someone...
