She drowned in the river

by my house. A woman

I never met. I did meet

her husband when I found

him screaming on the bridge.

Heard him during a morning smoke.

Went looking and found him

on the road, covered the by water

of overrun banks. Too much rain.

Said he'd been out here all night,

looking, searching, hoping.

I took his presence up here

as a sign of giving up. He said

"I know she's dead." Gave him

my last smoke and the best prayer

I had. Hand on his back, wet from

the water he drug himself out of.

I guess he grabbed a fallen tree and

climbed out. I called 911. Ambulances came.

Four total. He used my phone to call

his mom. She called back. I answered.

This agony was real. I walked home

about a mile with remnants of the river

squishing in my shoes with every step.

My wife sobbing at the news, even more

when we heard they found the body a

few hours later. Still, for all the pain I felt

that day, it didn't hit as hard as when

bacon grease splashed up on my wife's cheek

and burnt her skin a little. Fucking humanity.

If the Devil did do voodoo

He'd play dolls just like you do.

Have eyes just like you do.

So completely dark,

you think you're concealing your deceit

with a glass ceiling.

Don't think I don't see your

continual ritual.

Worshipping at the wrong cathedral.

Go ahead, light your candles

kneeling to your knees

stabbing needles through my eyes.

"Are they too blue for you?"

Or mad I wasn't your equal?

So thirsty for blood

you flood your mind

creating this prism,

your 'hidden' prison.

You thought you were so tough

but I called your bluff...

You are poison in the air

every breath,

every step,

every word.

You trapped yourself

inside this nightmare...

She was just a washerwoman but 'er kids was always fed,

An' she didn't have no 'usband 'cause the bugger 'e was dead,

So she shrugged off all the misery an' got stuck into work,

Earnin' pennies for 'er efforts tho' 'er duty's never shirked,

In due time 'er kids was older 'cause she was a mother true,

An' she never took no put downs from the likes of me and you,

Though she grafted like a good 'un there was always grub at home,

An' she'd kiss 'er kids goodnight before she went to bed alone,

All 'er neighbours saw 'er efforts an' they'd 'elp as best they could,

'Cause good people stick together just like all good people should,

Even though it was a struggle 'er kids made it into school,

'Cause she'd taught 'em all beforehand so's they wouldn't look a fool,

In the end she couldn't work no more 'cause old age held 'er back,

But them kids they all was good 'uns and they cut her lots of slack,

An' they cried for mother Nellie an' they repaid all 'er love,

Now she washes up in heaven lookin' down from up above,

Now the Good Lord loves a clean 'ouse an' 'e blessed those kids of 'ers,

An' in time they all was married to some very 'andsome sirs,

But old Nellie was remembered with 'er picture on the wall,

That Washerwoman Nellie was the greatest mum of all,

I heard this tale of long ago,

About a Cat from Idaho,

So miserable was this pet,

And in its way so firmly set,

So nothing that its owner tried,

Could cheer this baleful old feline,

And so one day in sunny June,

It's owner stirred it with a broom,

Hoping that some cheery mew,

Or playful purr just might ensue,

Alas this melancholic puss,

Ignored its owners jovial fuss,

And with an angry cursing spit,

It threw a vicious hissy-fit,

It's owner gasped at such affront,

And said "You're such a sullen cunt!"

But pardon me that's what he said,

Then locked his moggie in his shed,

And promptly called his parish priest,

To exorcise his vicious beast,

The priest was most concerned about,

His parish lest the news got out,

That someone's cat was so possessed,

He quickly donned his holy vest,

And drove as quickly as he could,

To sort our haunted cat out good,

The cat however couldn't care,

'Twas fast asleep just lying there,

It woke up quickly with a hiss,

To be roused from its dreamy bliss,

And feeling sorely put upon,

Did launch itself at Father John,

With all the venom it could muster,

It seized the Padre by his cloister,

Our dearest Father howled in pain,

As sullen cat did scratch again,

The padre took off down the street,

The cat gave chase and gnawed his feet,

And so it surely came to pass,

That Father John while at his Mass,

Did look so ashen and in pain,

The cat was never seen again.