Murder Ordained

MURDER ORDAINED

______________________ 

Hush, Hush Sweet Lorna

Gothic Groanings

Hollywood Hauntings

The Granada Theater Knows

Lorna Tells All

The Emporia Gazette

Midwestern Noir Muse

Deconstructing the Fly-Over State

Escaping Emporia

Returning Home

______________________

 

Hush, Hush Sweet Lorna 

As Sandy Bird fell —

Downward off the Rocky Ford

Bridge into the murky waters

Of the dark Cottonwood River

Falling down in slow motion —

Down from the old cables and

Gothic girders silhouetted by

The cruel Kansas starlight

Leaving bloody handprints —

Clutching the stark railings

Staining the whole Granada

Grande Dame Guignol Movie

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Gothic Groanings

There in the putrid pews —

In the shadowy sanctimonious

Aisles of the Baptist Church

Where murder was ordained

Blessed by the congregation —

Preached by the gaunt gothic

Minister who turned Emporia

Into a TV murder mystery

Like “Dead Ringer” (1964) —

“Strait–Jacket” (1964) and

“Lady in a Cage” (1964)

The list going on & on

“Die! Die! My Darling!” —

“I Saw What You Did!” (1965 )

“Queen of Blood” (1966) and

“Whoever Slew Auntie Roo?”

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Hollywood Hauntings

Not to mention others —

“Frightmare” (1974) and

“A Knife for the Ladies”

Plus “Blood and Lace”

“The Killing Kind” (1973) —

“Cry of the Banshee” and

“That Cold Day in the Park”

Plus “Night Warning”

As well as “In Cold Blood” —

“Queen of Blood” (1966)

“Berserk,” and yes

 “Hush, Hush Sweet Lorna!”

Gimme some Grande Dame —

Guignol Cinema and I’ll give

You an American goth flick

Worthy of wasted Emporia!

_________________

The Granada Theater Knows

“Come in, Madame Capote! —

Suave smooth Soothsayer and

Famed Kansas Clairvoyante of

“In Cold Blood” Psychic Powers!

The Granada Theater is packed —

All the way to the crowded Balcony

With Halloween Trick or Treat

Emporians eager for Cheap Thrills!

All the town’s staid churches —

Are boycotting the Cinema Séance

Delving into the Dirty Secrets

From whence Bird Bridge flowed

“Oh, Authoress of Cold Blood! —

Oh, Great Emporia Enchantress!

Give us the Holcomb Down-low

On louche Lorna’s Love Life!!!

_________________

Lorna Tells All

"Commune with us, tonight —

Sweet Sister of Sin and Sorrow

Confess your Skanky Secrets

Bring on the Dark Shadows!”

“Speak American Goth Spirit! —

Read our Red State Beads!

Tell us all the Wretched Secrets!

About the Rats in the Cellar!”

“Aghast and totally Disgusting —

Tell us about The Bad Seed!

From whence flows all our tacky

Fly Over State Fuck Up’s!!!

“Tell us a Goth Ghost Story —

Befitting our Midwestern Noir

Skeletons in the Dark Closet!

What goes Bump in the Night!!!”

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The Emporia Gazette

Soon the Emporia Gazette —

Began gossiping like the tacky

Scandal-Rag National Enquirer

Telling the most horrible Tales

Small town idyllic Emporia —

Once used to sleepy streets

And elm-shaded neighborhoods

Safely hidden from prying eyes

Suddenly turning into a louche—

Lorna Anderson Murder Mystery

TV Show that would’ve simply

Shocked poor William Allen White!

“Hush! Hush! Sweet Lorna!” —

The Gazette Headlines Hissed

“What Ever Happened to poor

Sandy Bird?” Emporia asked

________________

Midwestern Noir Muse

I have this Midwest noir —

Muse whispering inside my

Midnight movies dreams

Haunting me late at night

I simply can’t help it —

I blame Raymond Chandler

And Mickey Spillane as well

Plus campy noir Miss Capote

But most of all I suppose —

That old Yoknapathawpa queen

Miss Faulkner deserves most

Of the shameless noir blame

Deep South Delta Dixie —

Decadence rotten to the core

Mildewing just like my tacky

Midwestern noir existence!!!

________________

Deconstructing the Fly-Over State

Funny how things work out —

In ways you’d never expect things

To work their way through the

Nefarious detours & divagations

I’m more open to it now it seems—

Once I got used to being down on

My knees in the gutter looking up

At the heavenly stars above

Pretending to be hoity-toity about—

Being way up there above it all

Looking down at the Fly Over State

From a lofty jet plane high above

Suddenly I was born again it seems—

Plopped down like a runny juicy tacky

Cow patty from the haughty sky above

All the way down to Midwestern noir

___________________

Escaping Emporia

Thomas Wolfe seems somewhat—

Misguided to me when he says in his

“Look Homeward Angel” that we can’t

Ever return back Homeward again?

It’s just the opposite for me—

I tend to think that we can

Never actually leave our dumpy

Homes ever at all, my dears!

We’re stuck with it forever—

It’s embedded deep in our

Dizzy devolving head like being

Helplessly born Middle Class slobs

What makes us run away?—

We run from ourselves madly

Helter skelter but unfortunately

There’s simply No Escape at all

____________________

Returning Home

Nostalgia for me ends up—

Being nothing more than a touchy

Migraine headache that simply

Doesn’t want to go away

I’ve got the Granada Theater—

The Strand and the 50-S Drive In

Playing movies for me all the time

Up there inside my balcony head

Old film palaces haunt me—

Decaying decrepit abandoned

Haunts like all those gone movie

Theaters in dying dead Detroit

My only consolation being—

The Bijou Matinees still playing

On summer Saturday afternoons

There inside my Valentino heart