Suburban Killer (a poem)

at this juncture, we’ve not found

the serial killer who

stalks the sickened streets

of this suburban town –

turn that frown

upside-down, miss

we’ve got diligent detectives

on the case

looking at every trace

of evidence

storing it in dirty lockers –

we’ll find this psycho-dude

I assure you

& you can go back

to your tranquil life

not worrying ‘bout

these dreadful things

(Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash)

Criminals (a poem)

I dream of criminals, being a witness to misdeed

men with dark eyes do dark things in motel rooms

tell me to keep my mouth zippered shut –

I wake with a sense of dread

storm clouds gather outside frosted windows

a woman with an umbrella screams

then runs for her life.

(Photo by Lacie Slezak on Unsplash)

Book Review: The Trial by Franz Kafka

Imagine one day you wake up and you’re accused of a crime. You have no memory of committing a crime, but the authorities come to your apartment and begin to take away your freedoms. They say you must now submit to a mysterious court procedure, but they’re explanations are vague.

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