One Man's Hungry Revenge

One Man’s Hungry Revenge

He wore the guilt
like a feather boa.
Blithe plumage of debauchery
draped around his neck.
Undetected.
Just like the bodies in his basement.
His course was mute,
and he tried to be angelic in his ways,
but the beatings from his childhood days
always surfaced through.
He could not contain
that ravenous hunger         
    gifted to him by his step-fathers.

His mother wore a whore-coat
when he was little,
and she smothered his eyes in its sleeves.
Every night forced to hear her
cries of crack-cocaine,
calling different men’s names
as though she enjoyed the displeasure.
No wonder he ended up this way.
Hunting down disdain assholes.
The ones that beat children
into submission
and sell crack and women in the alley ways.
    He was skilled at what he did.

No sleep was lost at night and
he wore the guilt
and loss of life
like a feather boa.