Hijack Poem by Martin Lochner

Packed lunchbox and a note
To collect the laundry
The phone rung
Somebody said
They shot your wife
Between second and third avenue
Bare feet and boxers running
To find red and blue panics
Hearing paramedics say not to move the body
She left before the reminder: 20h00 dinner date at La Romantica
Sitting still in red percale body dyed cotton
Blood clotted lovely hair locks and the shower smell of Revlon
Never looking at its face I saw the picture of us on the dash board