john wayne gacy, jr.

January 25, 2007

his father was a drinker
and his mother cried in bed
folding John Wayne’s t-shirts
when the swingset hit his head.
the neighbors, they adored him
for his humor and his conversation.
look underneath the house there –
find the few living things
rotting fast in their sleep of the dead.
twenty-seven people!
even more, they were boys
with their cars, summer jobs,
oh my God!

are you one of them?

he dressed up like a clown for them
with his face paint white and red.
and on his best behavior,
in a dark room, on the bed, 
he kissed them all.
he’d kill ten thousand people
wiht a slight of his hand.
running far, running fast 
to the dead!
he took off all their clothes for them
he put a cloth on their lips –
quiet hands, quiet kiss
on the mouth.

and in my best behavior,
i am really just like him.
look beneath the floorboards
for the secrets i have hid.

(Sufjan Stevens)

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