Muddy Doors

DON'T HATE ME. I watched a documentary on the serial killer Myra Hindley, and I had a spark of inspiration. This poem is about her horrific crime, so read this before you read my poem. No disrespect.

 

she

hacked the child’s

feeble steeple head

from holey pillars          trembling

on wasabi with measles grass

pulled stubborn wheat weeds

from his ever baldening head

and buried him where she found him
in windy England grounds

big fat ogre green field

fattened by tortured carcasses and dreams

burps the soul of their bones to the chill in the air

she went to the fair the following week

and she dropped her bags

the boy’s mistake fed her day

and she laughed as

her shovel snorted crack to his skull

smashed him into the grounds where she took him
in windy England grounds

and buried him where she found him
in windy England grounds
now she’s dead

she drew grass mounds together in a lazy woven pit

                       together in a worm weaved spit;           and was emerald with envy

Reviews

[cilla]

I did not know Myra Hindley and Ian Brady before reading this and I am grateful that you identify the source of this tragedy. Perhaps it seems somehow wrong to offer praise for your creativity in describing something so innately evil but so be it. The imagery is as cold, bleak and horribly painful as the actual events themselves and for that you deserve to be commended. It seems for a moment in time you lived inside the head of Myra Hindley, saw what she saw and hung on to your sanity to offer a chilling insight into madness. Once touched by such evil, this is a story that will haunt you long into the cold, dark night.

[Alpris]

I know Myra pretty well, but not personally. I researched her bio, looked into her crimes and her victims. Just to get an idea, really; and because she's a very interesting character. I feel as if I know her like an old friend now, so I decided to incorporate it into a poem. I'm glad you enjoyed this piece though, thank you Cilla. Much appreciated.

[Michael G.]

Sadistically reported and sadly, continuously flowing well, all the way to the end. Cold and brutal, what's to say?
A very well written poem.

[Alpris]

Thank you Michael; that's exactly the approach I was going for. Much appreciated :)