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  • Jimmy Broccoli


His serial killer hands

Tie her up in Boy Scout knots

She is unmoving Play-Dough

Laying on a greasy garage floor

She can sense weeping

From another room

A room destroyed by animal smells

And dead bodies rotting

Swinging back and forth

Hung by inexpensive neck ties

Abducted in the abandoned

After-hours parking lot

Of Safeway

A plastic bag over her head

Erasing the future

All chances of escape

A wood-paneled station wagon

A choice family vehicle of the 70s

Her chariot to unimaginable wickedness

And insects that would later

Crawl upon her

Her mind and hopes

Become crumpled tin foil

As she hears the baseball bat

Scrape against the floor

Like rusted nails

Violating a chalkboard

She thinks of green wings

Carrying her to the little-girl castle

A story her father read to her

About Happy-Ever-Afters

And other fiction

Her mascara & tears collide

And drip on the cracked concrete

Like motor oil

Her mind is torn

Disheveled and terrified

She calls out

Through a dirty sock in her mouth

To a silent god

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