After he shot the cab driver in the face,
He drove out Molly’s Backbone Road,
Slung the body over the bridge rail
And headed for the drive-in where
He watched the first half of a
Clint Eastwood double feature.
He’d cut the radio off when the
Dispatcher’s voice kept crackling
His request for a twenty and settled
In on the six pack he’d picked up
On the way back from the river.
A couple drunks stumbling by the cab
Saw the blood and bits of skull sprayed
Across the seat and the cops soon came
Charging in by the ticket booth
Across the lot blocking his exit.
He had just popped the last beer
When the commands sounded
From either side and he turned
His pistol on himself.
Powerful poem. great last line.