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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)
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