Jonah Winter  
  Gangsters 
 
  Other poems:

Barometer

Goldi-Lox and the Lost Souls
 
"I'm afraid you got the wrong masterpiece,"
stated the fork to his 3rd cousin, the football stadium.
It was a dark and stormy night.
Rats prowled the harbor.
No sign of Toilethead.
So when the Old Witch arrived at the door to the boiler room,
no one recognized her disguise,
not even the prince, who was heavily sedated--
phenyl barbathol will do that to a fella.
Let me tell you though --
it was like a family reunion.
Everyone was there: Razor Lips, Toto the Deviant,
Percalator Eddie, "He Who Walks" Franklin, Grocery Boy --
the Ralphs, the Walters, the Vinces -- I mean,
this was the Meat-hook Symphony Orchestra,
violins and all.
They were tuning when Guido walked in.
"Hello boys," said the man in the rat-mask.
Some alternate endings:
a) And if they haven't died yet, they are still alive.
b) "Well well well," said no one in particular.
c) Hava nagilah hava nagilah hava nagilah ha-ah-va
 
 
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