:: Article

Murdercycle

By Jack Morgan.  

It was just me and my hog,
strapped to the road
like a son of a bitch.

The sun smashing mountains
to a bloody pulp.

I was back,
badder than ever,
to take out the trash;
to kick ass and chew beef jerky,

and I was all outta beef jerky.

The first one
got his eyes smashed
with my Tony Creed
Skull Ring.

Screaming like a girl.
Ruby-chip-eyes.

The second
got slapped on the road-
smacking skull,
like a hot poptart.

Frosted Strawberry.
Colored-sprinkle-teeth.

I skull-fucked a man in Reno
just to watch him die.

Ate a cupcake on the road,
threw that little paper thing
over my meaty shoulder,
and wiped my mouth with a leather sleeve.
 

Sara ties hers up with leather straps.
She got collagen injections in her G-spot
and gets whatever she wants now. 

Last week she got a Harley
and murdered five people.
Horny men.
She calls herself “Black Widow” now.

She’ll kill whoever I want
and wears a leather apron
when she bakes me cupcakes.
Killer cupcakes with little skulls.

She puts her teeth on my tattoos when no one’s looking.

We started a gang, Black Widow and me, called Black Motherfucking Sheep. We fly a black flag with a lamb’s skull, two crossed femurs, and a cupcake. We murdered 3 Californians and a Michigander last week.

There was plenty of time to make light of things, to tattoo owls on our backs and buy leather Lucha Libre masks to wear when we’re stalking our prey. We were born for this.

Our angry headlamps howl down black highways, two hungry eyes. Reno trembles in our dusty wake; El Paso quivers like ash; they hear us on the wind.

 

Jack Morgan

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jack Morgan is a wanted man in five states. Jack Morgan likes to kick ass and write poems. A lot of people hate Jack Morgan, but they never say it to his face. He also draws pictures that bring women and children to tears.   

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Tuesday, August 7th, 2007.