Murdered For No Good Reason
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A burlesque poem makes a serious subject into something ridiculous.
I was murdered by an escaped convict for no good reason the other day.
It was not nice, and it made me unhappy, and I wanted to get away.
But I jumped up instead, and I hit my crumby mean murderer on the head.
A little too hard, I guess, for now I am lying in a dingy jail bed.
I am tired of being murdered by these idiots. It always makes me mad.
I guess this time the murderer realized I too can be a little big and bad.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019
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