The Drop
Lovecraftian clouds take on monstrous forms in an ominous sky.
I showed up at your funeral with slacks, an off white blazer, and no tie.
We had many friends that ran in the same circle, but you were never my guy.
Your family was inconsolable, so instead offering my condolences, I didn't even try.
It was odd how the pallbearers showed more emotion than your widow who did not once cry.
The friendly chatter and smiles almost made it feel like you escaped with injuries, but did not die.
Let me take over from here, you can catch up on some much needed sleep.
If my words are not clear, your heart monitor and I no longer give a beep.
It did cross my mind to spring for the headstone, but the cost was a bit steep.
Business partners are still calling a dead phone, because I did not utter a peep.
You were once a breathing dolt, burial was the closest you ever came to being deep.
Why dodge a podium thunder bolt, when I can chronicle all of your missteps as a creep.
How is it that your eyes beheld a figure cloaked in black, but did not think he came to reap.
I will not look after your offspring, no state authority can make them my burden.
Your doorbell has a soft ring, so my assistant had to knock just to get a word in.
He is not an attorney, neither is he a priest that one should expect a moving sermon.
No hospital gurney, now that was a request that made him take a hard swing of bourbon.
I was very public and done in what some would call bad taste.
Eight bullets was nervous work, arms dealers call it a sad waste.
Tax free money is a service perk, unlike the interrogation your dad faced.
When the judicial process gets nowhere, they go after family members.
My shooter went into hibernation like snow bear, four witnesses are pressed, but nobody remembers.
The man who set it up enjoys a position as my co-chair, but I'm not impressed with a tenure of only four Decembers.
Even though it may sound like it is no fair, I will burn the both of them without the trace evidence four embers.
It doesn't matter who knows, go stare, I am a mountainous range you can't cross like I was composed of four Denvers.
When it comes to power I no share, these are hard truths to confront, so hit a local pub and go on four benders.
Politics goes in the column of low care, It doesn't matter if you believe in traditional marriage or four genders.
Watch your step or dangle from a toe snare, write four letters to the editor and get four return to senders.
Spoiler alert concerning any show scare, the approach of four war hawks looks like four chick tenders.
