The London Fog

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Death in the fog

Submitted: June 10, 2014

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Submitted: June 10, 2014

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Titbits for my piranha

Had some nice bones for the dog

Victims caught by my own hand

In this thick London fog

Full of ale or cheerful gin

These ladies of the night do sin

A chloroformed rag about the face

And the saw and scalpel

From my doctors case

Trash from out the gutter

Who mock me

For my persistent stutter

The Peelers seem a trifle confused

And the readers of the Times amused

Where do they think I get the food

For my flesh eating aquarian brood

With her clothes now ash in the fireplace

Not a sign of her the smallest trace

As the very last bone I give my hound

This one’s never to be found.

 

©

Mr.Watson

June 2014

 

 


© Copyright 2019 Mr Watson. All rights reserved.

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