If Youse Guys
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From the anthology, Complaining to the Clock, a work in progress.
If Youse Guys
If youse guys knock on my door,
I ain’t gonna answer it, no freaking way, man!
Youse could be Perry Smith and Dick Hickock standing there,
Holding a flashlight, a fishing knife, and a shotgun,
Thinking there’s a safe in the house somewheres.
I know youse guys think I’m loaded,
And that youse would kill me for ma’ money.
Not tonight Misters Perry and Dick!
I got two bus tickets to Barstow, and then
Into the American desert youse will walk,
with hitching, trembling thumbs stuck way out!
And if youse guys come driving up and offer me a ride,
I ain’t gonna get in, no freaking way, man!
Youse could be Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy in there,
Gripping a lug wrench and a rubber tourniquet,
Thinking I’m jus’ a soft target for your Polaroid camera.
Not today Misters Bundy and Gacy!
I gotta a tan V Dub, all gassed up for the long haul to Tacoma,
And then, into the American nightmare we will all go.
But if youse guys try to sell me a bill of goods,
I ain’t gonna buy it, no freaking way, man!
Youse could be Vincenzo Peruggia, and Doris Payne sitting there,
Holding a bag made of sackcloth, and a hoodie,
Scheming to rid my bank account with a smile and a lie.
Not today Messers Vincenzo and Payne!
I gotta fast plane to catch to Monte Carlo and Paris,
And I ain’t taking my diamonds or my Mona Lisa!
Sleep easy youse guys.
I ain’t gonna say nothing nice ‘bout any of youse.
All youse were just bad folk.
Glad youse is gone.
Copyright © Stark Hunter Anti-Poet | Year Posted 2019
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