Page 24 - Contrast2016

CONTRAST - 22

THE KILLING OF MRS. PEACOCK AND HER DAUGHTER

BY JIMMY CALDERON

A call in the middle of the night
While my wife is idle and sleeps my daughter,
And the sound of running water
Fills the rooms with all its might.

I run outside, and through the window
I see the figure; hidden shadow
With a knife so thin and narrow;
Wife and daughter are alone.

The car is parked right out the house.
The wind is blowing fast and chilly.
The thought of losing's rather silly
But lost and sad I'm, like a mouse.

The day has come, that fucking hour,
Which from my sins it is emergence,
And as an act of evil vengeance,
Leaves in my mouth a taste so sour.