Until
fun villanelle
Ray William Johnson spins true-crime reels
Comic like words “aight”, “foine” and quick takes
I keep watching, thrilled when I hear “until”
The stories are wild–I don’t have words to express how I feel
Every day I wake, search for Ray’s latest makes
Ray William Johnson spins true-crime reels
Each episode chronicles those who rob, kidnap, often kill
Some villians start off small then up the stakes
I keep watching, thrilled when I hear “until”
These lowlifes think they’re crimes are concealed
A lock clicks shut with that sound Ray makes
Ray William Johnson spins true-crime reels
Each culprit trusts the dark will be their shield
Murder is fine if no one investigates
I keep watching, thrilled when I hear “until”
I don’t praise blood or death or human ill
I delight in justice for brutal “mistakes”
Ray William Johnson spins true-crime reels
I keep watching, thrilled when I hear “until”
About the Creator
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More stories from Tina D. Lopez and writers in Poets and other communities.
December 8, 1980
When I was six or seven, my stepdad came into my life, and I remember thinking he knew everything. He could befriend anybody, anywhere. In grocery stores, he chatted with strangers over cuts of meat; at gas stations, he bonded with people pumping fuel over how the smell of gasoline was disgusting and yet enjoyable. In restaurants, he took an interest in waiters’ lives—like Steve, whose father was dying of cancer. When Steve’s dad died, my new dad attended the funeral.
By Tina D. LopezExclusive • 2 months ago
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