Murder Fund

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Image via Wikipedia

Clashes cause classes to come to slashes.

Honey turns bitter in the bucket with blood.

Closing time is enemy prime underneath time.

Fellows keep up a fund in hope of reaping

Justice. Children play among the father figures,

unbeknownst to evil in their midst.  Then it comes

to tingle their yearning. You can smell the hatred.

You can see the knives in their eyes.

“Let’s go'” the leader, Jack, says, as he gestures

into the bank.  It’s the manager they’re after. Jack

“walks up to the first  slot and yells,

“Where’s Jake?” Jake comes out trembling.

“You know what we’re here for.”  “Let’s have it!”

A swift exchange. One envelope, one knife,

ear to ear. No explanation.

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Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

6 thoughts on “Murder Fund”

  1. LoveLoveLove!

    Story poetry is a long-time experiment of mine — this is terrific 🙂

    (I would suggest losing the ‘gruffly’ … it does nothing to enhance what you’re informing us of.)

    Honey turns bitter in the bucket with blood. This line causes my heart to pitterpat!

  2. Hi, Kathy. Nice to hear from you. I’m really glad you like my little story poem so much. I have only done a couple, but they are well-liked, so maybe I will do some more. Thanks for the advice on gruffly. I will take it out. And, yes, the honey line is quite “stirring”. 🙂 It’s nice to hear it worked for you. Thanks for stopping by and come back soon!

  3. Yes, Gordon…I’d read this. But when I came here, now, I find that I didn’t comment. I was sure I had!? Anyway…My favorite line is:

    “Children play among the father figures, unbeknownst to evil in their midst.”

    It is a very sad reality that fits with the subject matter of this piece.

    ~Paula

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