By the meagre spark of a cigarette,
The scapegrace’s gang was always well met:
Mealy mouthed and nicotine stained,
They gathered by night but never by day.
Haunting the queasy quarters of the city,
The dark back alleys and the not so pretty
Gelatinous overspill of late night bars,
They dodged dustbins, drunks and stolen cars.
One night while enacting a cunning plan
To snuff out the life of an innocent man,
The frenzied fusion of evil and avarice
Caused a parapraxis: they left a trace
Of cigarette butts and genetic evidence
Of their arrogant crime and deadly decadence.

Kim M. Russell, 2017


My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Wordle #137 “January 9th, 2016”

8 thoughts on “Parapraxis

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