Glistening hair, black liquorice
Chocolate button eyes
Peer over the headlines of his newspaper disguise
Carriage gently rocking as the station waves goodbye
Mirroring the to-ing and the fro-ing of his mind
Fizzed up with adrenaline
Beneath a cool still gaze
Riding on the blood that pumps
Through New York City's veins
A pistol in his pocket
A kick-drum in his chest
There's a dead man on the 'G' train
He just doesn't know it yet
Remembering last Sunday
After church, still in his best
Honeyed tones over the phone
Would place this dark request
He struggled with the small-time stuff
This would earn a place
And thirty-thousand crisp green notes
In a leather suitcase
A gallery of faces
He scans them as they sway
With the steely focus of a hunter
Sniffing out his prey
He checks his pocket-watch
Once, twice
Forehead pearled with sweat
There's a dead man on the 'G' train
And there's no time for regret
He remembers talking with
The damsel in distress
Who said she'd mention Roosevelt
And wear a bright green dress
Said she'd pay him handsomely
To rid her of this brute
And pull a compact from her purse
His signal to shoot
Pull into
Church Avenue
The train regurgitates
A belly full of outcasts
Just three of us remain
He shoots that deadbeat man of mine
Clean between the eyes
Doesn't see me pull a pistol
Out from under my left thigh
Slumps beside my husband like
A sick wounded racehorse
A bloody, swift, alternative
To a messy divorce
I'd never prove adultery
Within a court of law
So I'll feign fear and self defence
And I'll feel no remorse
Glistening hair, black liquorice
Chocolate button eyes
Stare up at me, lifeless
As I force myself to cry
I'll leap onto the platform
Run to the guard and scream
"There's a Dead man on the G train!"
And I'll walk away free
