Warning: The author has noted that this contains the highest level of language.
His patience gone, he switched wife's med
and by the week-end, she was dead.
He wept and wailed above her grave
and took the cash she'd tried to save.
In sister's trailer, south of town
where he grabbed sis and laid her down
they toasted her, that poor dead bitch
a Christian and a kind white witch.
They say that warts ol' spouse could heal
and ferment kraut and tarot deal
they laughed that she should rot alone
and partied 'til her dough was gone.
They flew so high, on booze and meth
one night a month apast her death
He woke in pitchblack pouring rain
to choke on reek of leaked propane
His drunken fumbling'd broke the line
too weak to move, he'd fart and whine
sis was out cold, her worthless ass
left limp by meth and leaking gas.
The lightning's flicker made him twitch
he knew for sure spouse was a witch
the truth was more than he could handle
he moaned as matchstix lit the candle.
From the Bleaker County Sentinel: The western half of the county was jarred Thursday when a mobile home on Goats Chapel Road exploded. The fire marshal says that the residence had filled with propane gas from a leaking copper line to the cookstove. Parts of two bodies were found in the debris.
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Author Notes
Farfetched art leads to farfetched poems
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