The man who'd been your husband
Has come back again.  Guess what?  
He's drunk, and bawling that you ought
To feed him dinner and have sex with him.  
The kids are gone.  They're with your
Mother.  That's a break, and here's another.
I just buried your basenji.  I still have
The shovel in my hands.  He doesn't know
I'm here.  Would it be wrong to brain
The prick and put him in the soil somewhere,
Possibly beside your dog?  I really don't believe
It would, but I'll let you say “yea” or “nay,”
And drop the shovel or employ it.  Either way,
I'm sorry, but I think that I'll move on.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 34 times
Written on 2022-07-30 at 03:40

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Wow, another great one. You have such a mastery of tone and silence. I love this one.

Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Move on before or after the deed, or both?
Frighteningly realsitic poetry, Lawrence. Raw, gutty, and down to earth (if you'll excuse the pun!)