it didn't rain

it didn’t rain
by Jeremy Quinn
on seeing a pubic hair
in the lid of
a coffin, and having
read a bit
about the helix
got a cheap book on death row
seen pretty much
every serial killer movie.
had a ring binder
and met
a man who accidentally
killed his fiancées cousin
showing off with a sack
of onions
in a tapas bar in Madrid,
i had to laugh.
this was the best yet.
i wandered out
the graveyard knowing DNA
was found in 1952,
and him dying in
’51 only knew
crime as the sport of capture.
and her in 64, missed Geoff
adding them up
a total of 12 don’t see
cold lager on tap in June 77
and 29 having no fears
from AIDS or GCSEs
enjoyed beef
smoking in pubs before it
was banned and britain
it fell into the hands of
sanctimonious miserable twats.
all of them died when
the going was good.
i wished them all the best.

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