These old bones live to learn her wanton ways: / (I measure time by how a body sways). — Theodore Roethke
the body
of the Bennington girl was found
a Hail Mary from the New Haven Line
by a jogger in a high-cut leotard
the officers were not happy
being assigned
a shapeshifting
archetype
& while Paul
the old flatfoot, was certain the B girl
was bound for Canal St.
to hawk jewelry for an abortion
the baby conceived
at a sorority mixer at a nearby boarding
school famous for producing ski champions
& sex scandals
Jack, the rookie
remembered the rules of attraction
& thought
“Why did she have to act so fucking cool?”
both men agreed she was not
the heiress to Ocean Spray,
this would buy them some time
and please the Chief
whose blue eyes
are vacant tombs
that say,
it’s just another dead girl.
— Damon Hubbs is interested in pulpy paperbacks and films with over-saturated colors. His poems have been featured in Book of Matches, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Otoliths, Roi Fainéant Press, Cajun Mutt Press, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Horror Sleaze Trash, The Beatnik Cowboy and elsewhere. Links to his most recent published work can be found at dmhubbs.blogspot.com. Damon lives in New England.