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It happened one night

Rosy red puddle

Mahogany floor

Twenty nine fingers

Have been through the door


One of their owners

Has taken a knife

And mortally wounded

The Principal’s wife


Blood on the doorknob

(But on the outside)

There’s a ring in the bathtub

But is it a guide?


Her body is naked

And lies in the hall

Something inside of her fist,

In a ball


The balcony window

Is splintered and hangs

And the cat in the corner

Is showing its fangs


On the dining room table

A Cadbury box

Some pieces are missing

The parakeet talks


Tells of a struggle

And lets out a scream

Gobbles a biscuit

And now there’s nineteen.


There’s a man in a mustang

He’s driving away

He cries and he screams

And all Hell is to pay

But there’ll be no more lessons

Not tomorrow at nine

Now he speeds up the highway

And crosses the line.

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Lee Dunn View All

Lee Dunn has been writing since the age of 18, but found that work got in the way for the ensuing 48 years. In his home town of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, he reveled in his independence at an early age, and spent as much time as he could exploring the city’s Arts scene. He was introduced to poetry and prose by the works of two literary giants, namely J.R.R. Tolkien and J.W. Lennon and thence fell in love with the written word. His work includes poetry, short fiction, and personal essays, and ranges in theme from the surreal to the horrific, nostalgic, and themes on the human condition. He has been published on Spillwords.com, The Dark Poets Club, Journal of Undiscovered Poets, Crepe & Penn Literary magazine, and the Shelburne Free Press.

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