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Killer's Roadside Picnic...

The engine of his motorbike drones on in sympathy
Killer’s mind is numb, there’s nothing here to see
Hunger strikes his stomach, like a sharpened knife
There has to be some bad-guys here; brighten Killer’s life

Now on the dark horizon, there is a distant light
It flickers, flares and beckons, calling through the night
A campfire in the desert, reflecting chrome and leather
Biker-men and broads, enjoying party weather

Killer rides on in, trying to read their faces
Notes the patches on their vests, it is the “Hidden Aces”
Killer’s stomach rumbles, he hasn’t eaten in a week
The last of long-pig jerky, stuffed inside his cheek

As he walks up to their leader, there are smirks and smiles
Blackjack slaps a dusty back; "Hey, you come some miles"
"Yeah, I been awhile, out there ridin’ all round
I was back there in Yuma, but they threw me outta town"

The gang all yelled “Fuck Yuma, just shit there anyway”
Black Jack grinned and said, “Come on, Killer stay”
Killer nods agreement, while he’s looking at some tits
They are looking back, and he sees they’re really fit

Empty liquor bottles sparkle in the fire’s light
And soon and sure enough, someone wants to fight
Killer huh, he says; "What kinda name is that?
Think you’re bad now do ya?" and he throws his hat

A switchblade clicks and shines, in the moonlight’s glow
The girls are screaming now, taking off their clothes
You can see that sweat is dripping, down the scar on Slasher’s face
"What you got there Killer, in that fancy case?"

Silver studs on blackened leather, holds Killer’s steely blade
The Bowie-knife slides out, but the Slasher ain’t afraid
He’s been in lots of fights, some of them he lost
The scar upon his cheek, is what one of them had cost

A few graceful swipes from Slasher, just fanning empty air
Killer’s now behind him, pulling back on Slasher’s hair
Shining ten-inch blade, slits through dirty skin and then...
Old Slasher’s face is upturned, eyes staring back at them

With a cry of vengeance, Slasher’s bitch swings with a bat
Now, now says Killer calmly, we’ll have none of that
Whistling bat through fire and smoke, descending at his face
But Killer isn’t there; being fluid, full of grace

By now, there’s lots of yelling, "He’s a demon, get him boys"
Killer’s looking puzzled, maybe just a bit annoyed
He danced with every member of the Hidden Aces Club
They danced the dance of death, fell dying in the scrub

One guy was spitted with a branch, [it came out of you know where]
Another bitch had been scalped, dead eyes fixed upon her hair
Two more found that gas and fire, make for a deadly mix
Sprayed it at the Killer, but the wind was playing tricks

Fanned by desert night wind, embers flew to live again
Fed by gasoline, ignoring screams of pain
Last one to die, kept swinging, right up to the end
Killer was surprised; thought he’d found a friend

But he fell at last, squirming on the sand
Bloody knuckles showing, through the fingers of his hand
The end of the “Hidden Aces” none of them missed much
Buried in the desert, by Killer’s culinary touch

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
This poem is part of Killer's new trek to discover the best of long-pig recipes throughout the world. Next stop California!
Editing stage: 

Comments

Detailing is excellent in this piece
and I like the voracious pace it keeps
throughout

thank you!

that you are liking this newest gig. I tried to keep the pace fast and full of the viciousness as biker-gangs are know for. I know that they are not all like this, but when one thinks of biker-gangs, that is what usually comes to mind. I guess that is why many of them are calling themselves clubs these days, rather than gangs. Thank you for your reads and interest in Killer's exploits. ~ Gee

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author comment

It does Killer's heart real good to hear that there are still people like you and some of the others here at Neo, that enjoy a good tale of blood and gore! He's off to California next, maybe he will take out some of those "Preppies" for ya. You know, the ones that throw up at the sight of a dead squirrel on the road. [Personally, I think that they are nothing but rats with fancy tails.] They eat nuts and berries sure, but they will also tear holes in the bags of garbage that you leave out for the trash. Did I just describe a "Preppie" ? LOL
Of course a country-squirrel is also good dead, but only if you shoot them and cook them for the table. ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

epicurial poems
i start to read
then halfway though
I simply imagine
'tis from you
and
so a good one too

loved

Want to read more about the characters you've created in your poem. Liked the pace and your choice of lexis. Also, the disrespectful "bitch" works well in describing how women are viewed in gang culture. I didn't get the 'culinary touch' of 'Killer'?...or is that a pun? play on the verb 'to cull'....to kill?

'Betty' :)

a gourmet chef, and a cannibal! I guess you didn't pick up on the clue from Long-pig in his cheek? Long-pig is a term used by some cultures to describe human meat. [ I am told that it tastes like pork ]. I am pleased that you wish to read more "Killer". Feel free to read anything in my list of titles you think will yield another "Killer" poem. I am going to edit and compile the ones here and the ones on the old site [ before the crash we had a couple of years ago] and put them all in a book. Thanks for the read and comments, ~ Geezer

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
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author comment

I liked the drama of this and its subject matter, nicely at odds with the form. you seriously lose the metre at various stages during the poem, read aloud,record/playback and you'll hear where the metre fails, its lines that are too long, it usually is.
For some reason when people write long poems in verse the lines tend to get longer in the middle of the poem, don't know why. As its a ballad some latitude will work and you'll find its easy to edit the too long lines down to a more rhythmic flow. Also I'd put Killer and Slasher in italics to show their nick names and put the dialogue in double quotes. Both will help the reader.
very enjoyable, would be great recitated to a shocked audience ha ha
regards
ross

that the lines get longer as the poem goes on, but it is usually at a point where the situation changes, the scene
needs more description or some such. I have recited many of Killer's poems to some of my friends and they all say that they would rather that I do, than to read them. I will look to the problem of the reader, when I do another edit. I guess that I have fallen into the habit of being lazy about it, because many of the poets here don't use that much puncuation. We had a couple of coffee-houses around here that offered open-mike times, but I guess they weren't very much used and before I could get my courage up to take advantage of them, they disappeared. Maybe one of these nights my friends and I will go to a local place where we do Karaoke and ask if I might do some. Worth the try, eh? As always, ~ Gee

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author comment

What a trip for Killer, I have been looking up a few things for him and have found a piece on the www that might be of interest to him....

Butchering the Human Carcass for Human Consumption
by Bob Arson

It gives step by step instructions on the process, but I bet he just gets stuck in there LOL
A grand write I have informed immigration and they say he wont get a Visa here lol,
Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

that he will just have to use one of his many disguises. He has many passports under many names and will enter your country easily. No worrys mate, he wouldn't hurt you or yours, he only hurts bad people and I'm sure you're not bad enough. As to the book, he will look it up, although he has been doing this so long that he's pretty good at it. Thanks, ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

that he will just have to use one of his many disguises. He has many passports under many names and will enter your country easily. No worrys mate, he wouldn't hurt you or yours, he only hurts bad people and I'm sure you're not bad enough. As to the book, he will look it up, although he has been doing this so long that he's pretty good at it. Thanks, ~ Gee

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

author comment

just a thought
metre came about when poets recited poems (before printing) I think a regular metre greatly helps memory, rhyme also of course, so if you're into reciting your work, learning it by heart makes the recitation much more dramatic and spontaneous and a regular scansion would make it much easier to learn.

Killer never fails to shock me lol I watch horror movies through closed eyes hahahaha I dont know it never bothered me when I was younger? but now yeah lol I said I would read the rest of killers exploits from when I was gone ...

I thought it was well crafted only a few places I felt it stumble read it out loud and you will find what I am talking about I am really tired tonight its nearly midnight here, I should have been in bed an hour ago lol

higgest bugs and love JC xxx

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

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