they pulled him out of his truck
as he sat at an intersection
waiting to go home
to work.
i was told this by my fellow audience members.
when i arrived, he was already
crusted black with blood
stumbling on his feet between blows.
we watched, enjoying the show
unable to look away.
i asked around, why?
he killed a child some towns over.
imported dope from el salvador.
raped a woman in houston.
they cut down a tire swing
used the rope to tie his hands behind
his back and stuffed the tire
filled with gasoline, around his neck
and lit it with a gas station cigar.
he screamed and struggled but finally
went to his knees
the flames still licking as he fell face forward.
when I blew my nose
the snot was black from his soot.
Email this poem to a friend, enemy or jilted lover!
Click to open a print friendly version of this pageRead more work by this author
Read more poems tagged with:
Hate
Find more poetry by:
Title - Style - Category - Issue
Read more from the current Issue
Read more from Issue 24
