Buried Case
The bullet slams into M’s face
And blows it to a hundred pieces.
So quickly life-pulse ceases,
And of the killer–not a trace.
“Hey, look, I didn’t do the job!”
Arrested Fall Guy might complain,
But in his prison cell remain
Through power of a mob.
Posted 11/22/13
first published in my book, Resin from the Rain (Rose Alley Press, 2002)