Murder on Railway Street

by Slim Volumes

It is the coldest May,
the final day
and lilacs still
do not bloom.

The Enforcer
is down,
a single hole
behind the ear
leaking his life
into Monday's papers.

Associates
feel the draught,
re-arrange furniture
away from windows.

Bone aching cops
turn up their collars
to wait out
the weather.

Seeing their breath,
citizens
warm memories
over the embers
of his deeds.


The last
independent book,
retired 3/21/61,
shifts comfortably
in his leaking grave.

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