CONFESSION OF A KILLER'S KILLER
I killed a killer this morning!
I gorged his eyes out with my naked hands
Counted his teeth one by one
Like pebbles on a plastic platter;
Belched after I drunk his cold blood
In a home-made cheap mug;
Used a rusty pen knife
To separate his throat
From his now-pulp body;
Then tore his heart from its place
And replaced it with a rough piece of dry log!
I then threw what remained of him
In a gutter where street beggars
Empty the pains of their dirty bladders;
It was the most rewarding experience.
The after-taste lingered on my conscience
Like quinine on tongue.
But there was more relief than grief
More Mother Theresa than Hitler.
For then it all came to me
Like beer coming to a dry throat
How they must feel when they
I confess that I felt dope
When I killed a killer!
Copyright © Joseph Kimbugwe | Year Posted 2020
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