A Fine Display Of Gratitude...Or Something Like It Poem by Manny Francis III

It was Halloween, but he was a drunk thirty-seven year old,
unmarried, and looking for a woman to temporarily ease
his hostile spirits...his hate for the world. He drove
downtown, down a back-road, in a downtrodden area,
where he was sure to find some nighttime pleasure.

He picked up a blonde he'd never seen before.
She was prettier than the others, no swollen face
or shredded clothes or smeared makeup. She
was nice. Drive to a nearby town: one
with a better public record, she said to him.

He had no problems with the small suburban
neighborhood or the quiet street they finally
parked on, only the fact that it was still early
enough where children were out and about,
filling their pillowcases with a month's worth of sweets.

She calmed him, said the steam would prevent anyone from
seeing inside........It did. When they were done, she
showed him the automatic, shining dully, almost knightly
in the dashboard reflections. He tensed up, and before he
could swallow, she set half a clip free into his spleen.

He bled out onto the center console. She rolled down
all of the windows, figured the children would
fancy it a cool display on such an evening.

Copyright © 2008 Manny Francis III