After Jeff Lindsay, author of “Darkly Dreaming Dexter”

The man who sits at the bar

Is a very neat monster.

A monster who abides by a code:

Never kill an innocent.


He holds a cool glass between his cupped hands

And taps his foot to the music.

Drinking and smiling – the perfect masks

For a predator.


From the parking lot,

Enter stage left, the wife-killer,

Wearing a jean jacket

With a tear-drop tattoo below his eye.


This is a beast without ethics,

Without a code.

He is anything but innocent.


Above the bar is a painting,

Blankly-smiling monster has been eyeing it for twenty-minutes,

Just killing the time until killing-time.


A party scene.

The room is so bright and artificially yellow,

You might not even realize it’s night time.


The painted people, like him, are wearing masks.

Animal masks of all sorts.

It makes it very easy to spot the predators,

Mingled amongst the housecats and rabbits.


While wife-killer downs his fourth shot of Cuban tequila

And unsteadily rises to his feet,

Aiming for the bathroom,

Darkly-Dreaming Dexter fingers the syringe in his pocket.


The scene is set.


The players are ready.


And there’s a duffel bag of plastic wrap,

Butcher knives,

And heavy-duty Hefty bags

Between Dexter’s feet.


Leisa Kilby was a finalist in the Academy of American Poets contest who has also been published in TheBurg, Inked, and Fission.