Sister Rose
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Jack Ruby ...
(newbie)
boob tubie stoogie
step up and bunt, sir
that's an affront, sir, to all the
manic panic room ragers
bouncing their pagers off eyes-in-the-sky
hollow-point queries, thus ...
conspiracy theories
swept under the thug-rug like dust
shaking the pillars, grand homes of white
retrieving a tossed stick
bleeding and caustic for that egg-shaped room
a Camelot doomed by Big Daddy's greed
(oh that corn-mash weed)
and dear sister's need
freed by the slip of a scalpel, not so helpful
after all ...
gun-to-gun-to-steel-to-matter, (gray)
one sweet mad-hatter
to carry those numberless sins
their sticky grins
and one soft, tender chin ... so dear, so dear
covered in drool
the featureless fool left to rot
(please hold her gnarled-knuckle hand ...
... just a while - oh please - for the sake of dreams!)
still... karma wrought its due
and castles crumbled ...
though her heart could no longer
care.
Ruby, Jack ...
fade to black.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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