The Ted Talk (Poem)
The Ted Talk
Theodore Robert Bundy
-Active serial killer from 1974-1978,
Confessed to murdering nearly 30 women,
expected to have murdered many more...
I imagine
you standing
On stage,
creased pants,
Perfect
jacket, shirt, and tie,
Smiling. No prison bars
Or small box
to climb through
After losing
weight to fit
And escape
for 60 days,
Nor a window
to jump
Out of and
dash for the mountains.
We are ears
and hearts,
Wishing one
was removed,
For the
details might stop the other.
You tell us
how little you cared
For a
twelve-year-old girl
Who will
never grow for college
Where you would
gnash
If her body
wasn’t accessible.
You’re no
Hannibal, but a monster
That likes
to tease. The blood
Orange Beetle
didn’t give you away.
It was the one
that got away
From the
handcuffs,
But your
girlfriend stayed
As you
wrestled the devil
Until he blessed
you.
You didn’t
resist hiding the victims
For the
animals to do
What you
couldn’t.
Maybe you
were upset
That no
matter how much
You bound
them,
They always
belonged to God,
That His
promises beyond
Your hands
around their throats
Made your
spree obsolete.
Beyond the
dirt, teeth,
And bones
lies a rescue
You lack
control
Of stopping.
You tell us
you were famous,
Changing
hair and cars.
The
newspaper exhibited
Your feats
in red and black font—-
a comic
book strip
Where the
hero
Was either
always a few search dogs behind
Or never
showed up.
Were you
that quick, that hungry?
You don’t
answer. Over thirty women
were
never again seen
Or heard.
Their timeline
Will always
stop
Before you
didn’t,
Insisting
they place your pleasures
In their
fate, face to mask,
Or none at
all. Did they see you
Before they
saw no more?
Did your
eyes turn to black tar,
Swallowing
every scream and struggle?
You’re
laughing.
Cameras are
saying
That ladies
love cool Bundy,
Despite the
bite marks
In the photo
evidence
And your
defense team
Unwilling to
commit.
Maybe if
Johnny Cochran
Joined the
circus nineteen years
Before the
great American OJ Show,
"Race Vs. DNA",
We would
have seen
The most
amazing trick
Never done.
You didn’t
need a lawyer
Nor jury,
just a chance
To prove the
world
That your
charisma
Was a Visa
card
Never maxed
out
At the
expense of buying enough time
To pretty up
your bull crap.
If we all
had our way,
Once you die
in Florida,
Hell will be
waiting
To help you
remember
What you
really are.
-Calvin W.
Pennywell Jr. (2019)
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