Ode to the douchebag on the dirt bike driving around my neighborhood at 11 pm
Unknown warrior,
He who doth not yield to the chains of life.
You who know not when to say “die”.
Pushing further and further into the night,
You touch the throttle, and fling yourself
into destiny.
I, who can only stand still, and watch.
I, voiceless, wait furtively.
I turn my face to the pale moon, and
silently
call to you in vain
“It’s 11 o’clock at night. Stop driving repeatedly down the street,
You fucktard.”
The Mystery at Burlington Manor
“One of you”, said Inspector Harris to the group that had gathered in the library, “strangled Sir Anthony here in this very room!”
