The Trunk
I woke this morn a chilling sweat alarmed
No recollection of the night before
The sheets were drenched and mixed in beading blood
That's when I heard the knocking at the door
I sauntered to the front glint through the drapes
Am startled by a beauty, don't recall
“Not leaving” she says, “open, let me in”
Last night I shared with her what would befall
Some memories coming back I turn the knob
She plants one on my lips, then many more
On sofa out she blurts “Well, is it done ?”
Don't answer her til I remember things
She smiles and says “you did it” views my cuts
The blood that's on my body source unknown
Still no reply from me until I'm clear
She voices “bye, I love you” her bemoan
It's coming back to me “was I set up ?”
Descends compendium of my cars trunk
She must have drugged the brain between my legs
Garage-my car-I'll search I could be sunk
I turn the key to open up the lid
A large dead man is scrunched up in a ball
The sirens getting louder “I've been framed”
I shake my head, about to take the fall
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