The call came in around eleven-thirty am.
Det. Palawant picks up. "Yeah?"
A badly decomposed body, discovered by two hunters.
Palawant starts writing. "Okay, Where?"
Location: Heavily wooded area out here along County Road 45.
45 aka Lost Land.
"I'm familiar with the area, continue."
My partner calls it, Lois Lane.
"I know all the nicknames, continue."
45 is a twenty-mile stretch of two-lane blacktop in the county's south end.
Seldom patroled.
Also known as Lost Land.
Also known as Lois Lane; a favorite dumping ground for female victims.
Five in 6 years, all unidentified.
Palawant writes decomp bod, CR45, 2 hunters, LL.
"The victim, male or female?"
IDK Only a hand sticking out of the ground.
"Does the hand look like it belongs to a man or a woman?"
Not sure, looks like it could be a man, it's kinda thick.
Palawant writes Victim???
"What were hunters doing there?"
Hunting
"It's not hunting season"
Palawant writes Hunter's?
"Do the hunters have names?"
Steve and Jay Emmerson.
"They cooperative?"
Affirmative.
"Get their information and why they're hunting out of season."
Palawant pulls on a jacket and tells the desk sergeant to run, Steve and Jay, see if anything comes up.
"Call me with any info."
***
Johnny.
Gangster-Poet.
Sits in his room playing with sentence fragments,
and rhyming words.
He just bought himself a new Thesaurus.
"That Thesaurus is a nice car, Johnny." Said his mother.
"Thanks, ma. Good gas mileage too."
Poems are all about feelings.
Poetry means finding the right word for to inject into a verse,
Like finding the right piece to snap into a jigsaw puzzle.
When it all comes together it's a beautiful picture.
First verse: 'Under a green canopy deep in the woods, yet not too far from the road, I planted a tree so lovely and young, a secret nobody knows.'
***
The phone rings.
"Yeah it's me"
The cops are out on 45, snooping around.
"Wonder what are they looking for?"
Don't know exactly.
"Was this on the news?"
Info from my friend, he's in on the know.
"I'll keep the radio on, listen for developments"
If I find out anything I'll keep you posted.
"I'll keep my Go-bag ready."
Good idea.
Second verse: My love discovered, uncovered, and examined from head to toe. Is she a maple, spruce, or oak? Their invading hands will never know.
About the Creator
David Parham
Writer, Filmmaker, Digital artist.
The ever Changing Complexities of Life, Fear, Mysteries and Capturing that which may not be there Tomorrow.
Complex, Change, Fear, Mystery, Tomorrow & Capture. Six reasons I write.
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