Sour milk spittle dribbling down a full beard.
greasy pork belly sandos,
left in a midday sun.
Sulphuric septon’s septum.
Circling down the colorectal assembly.
Emerging into the world.
A good throat on.
Hairy butter whispers.
Asking for a harsh quiet.
The kind that only comes of a rainstorm stopping immediately.
A fair tribute.
A barfed rebuke.
Python pyrrhic pre-puke.
In a rut,
Mimosas in a parked car.
Sunday hung over,
Bloody Mary governor.
Last place finishes are more complicated when your clothes are soiled.
Published by Christopher Hickey
Welcome to my effort. Yes, as a great procrastinator, it requires great effort to stay focused on something productive that matters to me. I’ll find any old excuse to traipse from project to project, and I rarely end up at the place I started. I find this maddening, and exhaustive. So it is with high hopes, and a greater grasp of self-awareness, that I embark upon staying the course so to speak.
I enjoy writing. Be it blogs, fiction, poetry, etc. I love the craft and the act of creation, the art in and of itself, for it’s own sake and end. I am happy to be able to do it.
Born: March 1974
St.Francis de Sales, Charlestown MA
Don Bosco Technical High School, Boston MA
University of Massachusetts at Lowell, Lowell MA
Bunker Hill Community College, Charlestown MA
DePaul University, Chicago, IL
North Virginia Community College, Arlington VA
Harvard Extension School, Cambridge MA
Place of residence: Somewhere in the land of metro Boston. It’s vaguely familiar and becoming home more and more by the day, but when you come from “The Town” all else fails by comparison.
Favorite Color: I’m partial to all forms of blue.
Favorite Author: c’mon! don’t expect me to answer that, there are too many.
I enjoy memories of playing 80’s Atari better than playing any advanced gaming system that exists today.
Hope to be recognized for my paper clip collection. As well as my 27 rejected applications to Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailiey Clown college.
View all posts by Christopher Hickey
8 thoughts on ““Magnificent Murder””
It took me a long time to figure this one out. I guess you were going for a depiction of ugly here. Maybe the magnificent part threw me off. When I talk about ugly, I would have thought words like racial slurs, rather than words written in a poem, even if the poem was a bit past edgy. But yeah, I think this meets the bar of ugly, or mean, if that was your goal. Magnificently, blind-sightedly ugly, so to speak. Stunningly so. If that’s what you were going for. To each his own. I found it in your top posts, so I guess we all have different tastes.
That top posts widget is tricky. It’s based on performance, I don’t get to choose. So it’s surprising it has been received so well, despite its content.
I don’t mind working along the fringe of tasteful, life is messy and ugly too. But there are lines I won’t cross.
The truth: my daughter had a stomach virus last week and these were all the things I thought as I cared for her.
It’s easy to read things the wrong way. Can’t say it’s my favorite of your pieces. I think you do a lot better. But I don’t like everything I write either. Hope your daughter is all well.
Thank you. I’m a firm believer in it being a two-way process, and what we read isn’t always what was intended. But I truly like that. Lenore is much better. I’ll have to ask her someday what she thinks of it.
I don’t know who Lenore is
My daughter 😊
Oh, your daughter? Good. See how lousy I am at reading