Friday, April 02, 2010

Hatchet Woman

(Strange Tales #2)

Sometimes if you kill just one to begin with,
The curiosity of cats will bring another
And then another, and pretty soon
You have a crowd in the burial barrel.

I’d been linked by the Law
To the Hatchet Woman more than once,
But it hadn’t stuck even though I did know her well.

The Hatchet Woman could be so kind—
I liked to see her naked—
But not everyone could know her that way.

They continue to arrest her now and then
For this and that, but that doesn’t stick, either.
Boys accuse her of being a gypsy or witch, yet also of
Killing and eating black cats, which makes no sense.

There was a stink coming from her house last summer
And a lot of suspense, but the police found nothing,
And Sheriff Snell admitted he couldn’t stand the smell
Long enough to really look things over.

I made her meet me down by the creek and get dirt on her
Back all that worst month until the odor passed.
I must admit I burned at least a hundred incense sticks
In the crawl space under her house and spread lime, too.

In the end
There was no one missing from home,
No pets reported missing, either,
And the sheriff vowed to forget the whole damn thing.

He told the town he was sick of the gossip
And was going fishing!
I wondered why they never heard from him again,
But I expect he decided he didn’t like the fishing here.


Current draft: 3/30/2010
Created on 3/25/2010 5:20 PM

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)