Ive thought often about poetic murders
Envenoming a robust wrangled rhyme
Leaving the marrow thick to curdle
As I plot away the waiting time.
Maybe I’ll sharpen some alliteration
A convocation cavorting capers
Awaiting the right dark situation
For the scything wit to savour.
Slicing deep spilling blood
Sibilant sounding shaping up
Then that poetic body thuds
Finally making that final cut.
But add in a gun shot of imagery
Thudding its shells into chest
Murder by poet, a verbal frippery
Is a death one can’t contest