Tag Archives: unsolved murder

White Lilies

We lay the coffin down into the grave carefully,

like a mother lowers her child from her hip.

A bright sunny day, in the heat of summer,

but I feel a coldness in my chest.

Found abandoned on the side of a country road,

tossed aside like an empty beer can out the window.

Why did they do all they did to you? Why did you suffer?

Who are you, my child? Lost and unclaimed. Happens too much.

We don’t know your name. We don’t know who loved you.

But we love you know. We’ll watch over you. Not rest.

My child, the priest is here, and we who fight for you.

May God welcome you. May He wipe away your tears.

I lay flowers on your marker, pretty lilies, white and soft.

We are men, and we are weeping. Why did they do this to you?

The sun is bright. The day is hot. But darkness lurks here.

I’ll fight for you. Not rest. Whoever loved you, we love you now.


LA, sun is bright, but it’s cold.

I walk, caught in a dream, her.

A face kept forever, before my

world came to be, she was lost.

Somewhere a ghost remembers,

and the airman came home again.

Ritzy hotel selling a promise, a smile.

That wound makes a demon come.

A young woman, sitting on school steps,

that I stand before, smoking fumes of ghosts.

No one’s face reveals the days end.

Half torn and mocked in a blasphemous pose.

A fancy hotel, the night come, things go on

and they stand still, and hum like power lines,

the juice to memory and vengeance and loss,

to the bright stars that we make of the dead.

The streets are just a moment, changing,

but we’re still the demons and the angels,

the sharpened knife, to too desperate kisses,

and the hope that damns us time and again.