A Killer Word
Strewn on the ground
were the nouns;
and the active verbs,
along with the Criminal Looks
and Sly Slights.
There was a Wad of Silence
masquerading as 'Quiet Time.'
The Absences were white chalk outlines
and fittingly so-
there was nothing of substance left.
The yellow plastic cord-rope
denoted the murder scene-
'move on' the cop said
'nothing left here to see.'
You could glimpse the outline
of a person there
face-down in the street;
cut down from childhood
with Withering Stares
Shredded Feeling Tones,
Little Murders all of them-
marauding Word Killers-
inflicting wounds that bleed-
inside the mind;
blood red emotions
running thick in the street.
Someone calls 911
but they come much too late.
What's really needed is 411
for those who need to know
and eat out
from the inside.
A word is a dangerous thing
in a crowded room.
You can put someone's
in the bitter
where warm hearts
and sometimes cynicalize
from Bitter Hate
Lonnie Hicks's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (A Killer Word by Lonnie Hicks )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(23 November 1920 - 20 April 1970)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(June 7, 1943)
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