Contributor: David Rutter

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I never liked the word penitentiary
It suggests remorse
Which, in my case
Is laughably far from the truth

I remember the first time I saw you
The way your eyes implored mine
Couldn’t help but give away
The dark desire you kept hidden

I much prefer the term slammer
It’s so filled with brutal suggestion
Of how a person will be dealt with
If they decide to mess around with me

My next step was self evident
I was to act as your attendant
In realizing the malignant fantasy
You would never be able to voice

Even the shortening to pen is better
Suggesting a small enclosure
Overfilled with fat and stupid animals
In a Darwinian struggle for survival

You kept up the pretense
Crying in make believe terror
As I held his head between my rough hands
And twisted till I heard a sharp snap

Best of all, I think, is “up the river”
That one makes me laugh in my bed at night
Those three words just so perfectly describe
How I disposed of your husband’s body


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David Rutter is a Los Angeles based writer of poetry, fiction and theatre. This year his work has been published in Haggard & Halloo, The Wilderness House Literary Review, Subliminal Interiors, Dressing Room Poetry Journal, Clean Sheets and The Los Angeles Review of Los Angeles. He is not writing a screenplay.