The Cannibal

[nairways]

The Cannibal


Tramp in drunken stupor sauntered;
Swaggering and careless;
Blue levy pants dirty and stained;
Reeking of grease and five cent rot-gut;
Unawares of snares waited for prey;
Up went his legs, flailing hands clutched air;
He has been had, neatly too.

Giant legs marched out of bushes;
Round and feminine carrying a bulk;
Huge as a bear and smiling sweet;
Like a specter of malicious spirit;
She surveyed scene with glee.
"The Good Lord be praised;
my young ones will eat today";
Seven buttons marched in, wide eyed and hungry;
Eldest of them carried a draining bucket;
They have had their catch of the week.

"Fear not, my good man;
Your mission in life is fulfilled;
My young uns haven't eaten in days
You will surely remedy that shame.
Now hold still and let me do my work;
I may be Cannibal but I kill with mercy
What the Good Lord has provided;
Cleaver is fine honed, hands are steady;
You won't feel a thing;
Till you meet goat-foot god"

"Wait ! You wretched woman";
Cried hobo, "kill me not;
My meat is tough and poisoned;
Your young uns shall surely die".
"Spare me litany, heard it all before;
Food never comes with a smile;
'Sides, these weasels thrive on sordid meat".
"Hush ye, celestial bum, rejoice not grieve;
For one noble deed in your listless life".

"Wonder not what brought you here;
It was so destined by the Lord;
Folks wander in for their funeral,
When their rope finally runs out".

"But why?" Asked the wino;
Folks stick to animals and things;
What forced you to ingest fellow men;
Things aren't that bad these parts;

T's a long story, no time to tell you all;
But you have right to know the truth;
For, I have sworn to eat dwellers of town yonder;
Devil's Creek they call it and the name fits.

Me and my man Jerry were living well;
Thru hard work, he put bread on the table;
Tilled the earth till his back was sore;
Never muttered a word but stuck to his job;
Children strutted and played happily;
Caught dragon-flies to lift pebbles;
They knew no hardship, nor hunger;
But the beauty of life in wilderness;
Nary a time we went without food;
Many a freezing winter we happily spent;
Warm and comfy by the roaring fire;
He was a proud man, my Jerry Mitchell;
And they made him dance on a rope"

"Their posse came looking for him;
For a horse-theft he never committed;
Happened to be at the wrong place, wrong time;
And they framed him for the offence.
There was no mercy in them butchers;
Worst being the Sheriff, a no-good lush;
Without a trial, without a hearing;
They hung my Jerry in sight of my kids"

"Young ones are a strange lot now;
Seldom play, nor speak any more;
They sit brooding, sunken eyes boring
Into the horizon looking for their pa;
They speak to him in their sleep;
My heart rends asunder;
watching them preen for their pop"

"Crickets no more drone these woods;
No whippoorwills call at night,
Swallows shun these accursed woods
Nothing disturbs deathly silence and isolation;
Traps no more fetch animals;
They seldom venture these forests;
Black death pervades the atmosphere;
Animals are smart, they sense."

"I made a promise to my Jerry;
Just before he took off to hell ;
I shall live here with my brood;
Till the last of them boiled in my stove."

"There are snares all over woods;
Waiting for gentry from Devil's Creek;
Twenty-seven of them hung in my snare;
And their meat tasted extry sweet !
Fifty more are left in town;
Waiting for invite to our dinner table.
They hung my Jerry by his neck;
I do the same but by their heels."

"When sweet ladies of Devil's Creek;
In their velvets and sweet smiles;
Celebrated their thanksgiving dinner;
Turkeys big as possum, corn and caviar;
My lads were blissfully chewing;
Ill cooked leg of a leprous nigger."

"Nothing left befall this Mitchell clan;
Save perhaps gloomy skies above;
That indeed be a nifty trick;
'Cause them vultures will crush same as us"

"Hey ma, I ain't from parts hereabouts;
And I'm no friend of them evil monks;
I'd bring them to your trap one by one;
Even help you skin a gent or two;
Killing me won't serve your purpose;
How about let me down and call it quits."

"I am sorry, can't do that sweet fellow;
It's too late to change anything;
Children need nourishment in a hurry;
Or some of them might bid me good bye !
However much I grieve for you,
That chose to cross my snare on this day;
I cannot but let you go;
Secret must remain so till we are home."

Fugitive from hell considered options;
Times were to fight or quit;
Wasn't so tired or scared any more;
Opted to quit with a happy heart.

"I feel sorry for your little tabs;
Seen the hungry look in their soul;
They have only you, a hellish but just mother;
You'll lead them to perdition, no doubt
With your heart of revenge and darkness;
Go on with your ghastly deed !
All same to me, whether living or dead"

"Oh, Lucifer, here I come.....
To inhabit thy kingdom of fire and brimstone !
I beseech thee to render some help;
To cause of these souls of doom ! "

And so the tramp is killed, cooked and eaten.

[Ray Trivedi]

"beseech thee" is very out of place. In the English speaking world, people rarely talk like that. That's the only unconvincing part of this epic poem.

[Leslie]

Reading the various clues built into the story I have to take this epic as set in the American West of some decades ago; the problem of language arises. Some of the archaisms can be accepted on the grounds of that setting, even the 'beseech thee' for the fact that it is set in a prayer. Against that, English does not come across as the author's first language; there are some awkward turns of phrase and unnatural expressions. This is aggravated by the fact that almost all the poem is expressed in Direct Speech. None the less, I found it easy reading, it flowed well enough and had rhythm. I hope we'll see other poems that maybe avoid speech - and where question marks don't keep ousting the apostrophe.
I look forward to your next posting. Leslie.
P.S. Shouldn't that be Levi jeans?

[Minstrel]

Hello Nairways.

I actually didn't mind the language in this poem, it seemed to fit the oddness of the subject. A long poem that held my attention, probably because I wanted to find out what happened to the wino. Was a bit disappointed that he resigned so easily though. Unusual style and unusual language that reminded me in lay-out and dialogue ( think those question marks have something to do with the language setting on your computer ) of The Witch of Coos by Robert Frost.

Good post

Minstrel.