Thursday, September 16, 2010

Try Not To Be a Serial Murderer

try not to be a serial murderer

if people find out
no one will sit next to you on the bus

no one will want to dance with you

people even creepier than you are
will ask for your autograph
and take it home
and add it to a pile
that means even less than your list of dead did

you'll get to be a has-been
a boring creepo
and people won't even try
to overhear you at cocktail parties
to hear about the movie
nobody will make about your exploits

and even the next fad serial killer
won't want to kill you
because you're so boring


From The Troubles (1993)

Wildly Until

I


back, back from the flashlights could seal his doom. His eyes got to his feet and scrambled he had to run, and fast...as he went, into the alley. He rising only to race into the fog had to be...he knew not what but this time stabbing pain in his right arm, he pushed himself to his feet wildly until, panting, with sweat and burning them closed, he came boards, blocked his way... he crashed through the barrier safety, he sensed the taste of liquid unite with that of the sweat pain.

this naive newspaper and his arrival here.



II


He dare it as they'd said it would:

It wood red schoolhouse go down above which a sign wearing a black handlebar white shirt and a blue. But like they belonged their wearers travelled all of them wore the same. He sin town, the Grand Hot quaint though it was.

Upon was the center of attention handlebar mustaches, headgear on their head and they all stared at a show the same as the others but

"A room"

he nod

"No,

"Off odd here now."

"When?"

"Dunno," darker else brutes ped over the top cap fell off. entire skulltop was a concave "Didn't tell me." reporter's head. The hats skulls from everybody's view, and even zombie!

They had surrounded him. "Four others!"

everything and



III


"You o"

It was dark. Moreorless hazings of the light, like that "Yeh"

"I'm you?"

"Archere?"

"You room. Or you starve

"We're... Just... Any room with bullets"

John's red. The brute caught it. The guard's weapon and waist. The rope above holding the guard's rope son threw the noose-end. He missed. He tried a third

"See you

He climbed



IV


heard Marie's voice

keeper staggered forward, muttering then bowed what was left of his head. And, there was a concave metal disk. That smiled.

"Now you are master here," she said

wearing a bright green bonnet




From The Troubles (1993)

Note: I've done some minor punctuation changes from the original, which was punctuated to remain true to the material from which it was cut up. There are a few irregularities remaining, but the new version may prove to flow a little easier. The sole remaining version of the piece from which "Wildly Until" was cut is now posted to my other blog, Things I've Done For Blood.