Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Keep it under wraps,
You heard the man say.
It was cell phone talk,
On a crowded train,

You across the way,
Minding your business,
Catching the voice sounds,
Dark and menacing.

No one else noticed,
No one seemed to stir,
All in other worlds
With their thoughts and dreams.

Just keep them guessing,
You heard the man add,
His dark eyes blazing,
His tie tight knotted

About his fat throat
Like one garrotted.
It mustn’t get out,
You heard the man say,

There’d be hell to pay.
The carriage went dark
Into a tunnel,
Voices hushed childlike

Before story time,
Then daylight broke through
And the man had gone,
His seat vacated,

Just his angry words
Hanging in the air,
Just you noticing,
That he wasn’t there.

international intrigue perhaps? ....but in any case, mystery and many questions....

a thriller of a poem, the reader can't help but be pulled into the mix....

thank you, Saw.

poets are like secret agents

yes, and some have been. Thank you.