On the Murder of My Wife
Disappearing to somewhere
I can forget
riding on my Harley, speeding
on some remote road, hidden.
She did everything right ―
all of this was on her tab:
Sunday lamb dinners,
Broadway tickets, canoodling in the hot tub.
I had to do it, I said to the cops ―
she was killing me with kindness.
On the Murder of My Wife
Disappearing to somewhere
I can forget
riding on my Harley, speeding
on some remote road, hidden.
She did everything right ―
all of this was on her tab:
Sunday lamb dinners,
Broadway tickets, canoodling in the hot tub.
I had to do it, I said to the cops ―
she was killing me with kindness.