Image: “Sleeping Girl,” attributed to Sigismondo Coccapani (1583-1643); attributed to Domenico Fetti (1589-), 1620-1622, in Wikimedia Commons … https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Domenico_Fetti_-_Sleeping_Girl_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg … public domain ..
Image: “Sleeping Girl,” attributed to Sigismondo Coccapani (1583-1643); attributed to Domenico Fetti (1589-), 1620-1622, in Wikimedia Commons … https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Domenico_Fetti_-_Sleeping_Girl_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg … public domain
To turn off the spooky background music, click once or twice on the arrow on the audio bar at the bottom of the page …
- VIDEO BY ALICE
- SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
- “Ice: A Murder Plot!” a Poem by Alice B. Clagett, Soundtrack and Words
Dear Ones,
Here is a poem called “Ice: A Murder Plot!” about what I intuited might be a well-laid murder plot in the Wild West. I was, I feel, the intended victim. Luckily I escaped ‘before the fact’, unscathed. There is a Summary after the video …
VIDEO BY ALICE
SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.
This is a poem called “Ice: A Murder Plot!” …
. . . . .
“Ice: A Murder Plot!”
A Poem by Alice B. Clagett
Soundtrack and Words
19 September 2019
This is a fictional, narrative poem.
I said, I’m a charity trust trustee
Ought I stay on the board or leave it?
He said, Why live with clutter?
Out of the corner of my eye
I looked round at his office
No papers, no books, no cabinets
Just a laptop and a printer
Ok, I said. I agree
As he handed me the paper to sign
his eyes cut like a razor
. . .
He said, Here are your POA forms
One is for power over health
the other for just about everything else
If you want
my wife and I
can provide that service for you
His eyes looked clear, like river ice
early on, in the winter
Ok, I said. I will sign them
. . .
His eyes turned blue like the midday sky
as he handed me the papers
Here’s a form, he said,
that I always advise
it’s important for your children
After 3 days they pull the plug
it saves them from commotion
I said, I don’t like that form at all!
Look at me – I’m the picture of perfect health
and then, I have no children
His eyes glinted like sun on snow
He said, My advice is to sign it.
. . .
He opened the door to show me out
Then stopped for half a second
My wife, he said, does health massage
I said, May I have her number?
. . .
. . .
She said, I can’t see you at my job
They’re fixing the floor in my office.
I’ll do the massage at our home instead
Her voice was like raspberry jam on toast
Why did that concern me?
What day? I asked
with a frog in my throat
She said, I’ll get back to you
Two weeks later, I found the door
of the place where she and her husband lived
Here, she said, is my new massage table
Her hand touched the cloth
in the way that a priest
offers the Sunday Eucharist
. . .
I don’t disrobe for massage, I said
I hope you can work around that
Her lips froze
Her eyes assessed
Her hip touched the edge of the table gently
Would that be ok? I asked
Ok, she said. Lie down here.
. . .
This is a new technique, she said
You’ll be the first to try it
and she explained cerebrally
the ins and outs of the method
Then out of the blue, it seemed to me,
she said, Do you know Catherine?
I have known her for years, she said
and I really like her
My eyes froze, then relaxed. O yeah.
It’s Catherine that’s working back in town
next door to this young lady
A hunch formed in the back of my mind
Then disappeared
before I could see
more than a claw
or the look on the face of it
. . .
A man in a hat
that concealed his face
walked in from the yard
As he cleared the lintel I saw
the door was still half open
His shadow lay
like a long black line
on the floor at the foot of the table
Who’s that? I asked
O, she said,
He’s just a gawker from next door
You don’t mind, do you?
I said, Yes I do!
The stranger stopped inching towards us
He turned round in the cool dim room
felt for the door with his left hand
and stumbled into the sunlight
. . .
My blood turned hot.
My hands got cold
My heart got a speeding ticket
I sat up.
My gosh, I have to go!
Here, let me pay you
. . . . .
In love, light and joy,
Alice B. Clagett
I Am of the Stars
Written on 19 September 2019; published on 21 September 2019; revised on 6 April 2023 and on 29 May 2023
Added poem to: Tiny Anthologies: Wild West Poems
NOTES: As you may know, ‘to ice’ is an old time slang word that means ‘to murder’ … to ‘send to the morgue’, where it is icy cold.
… and POA means ‘power of attorney’.
See also … Link: “Elder Euthanasia for Profit: Truth or Fiction?” by Alice B. Clagett, written and published on 10 April 2022 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-qLk ..
Here is background information … Link: “Alice’s Perilous Tales: Murder in the Wild West,” a story by Alice B. Clagett, written and published on 8 August 2020 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-jrE ..
Music by SergeQuadrado from Pixabay
Detective – Pixabay License
…………………..
–from Link: “Ice: A Murder Plot!” a Poem by Alice B. Clagett, written on 19 September 2019; published on 21 September 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-eio ..
Alice B. Clagett
Except where otherwise noted, “The Chalice and the Crucible” by Alice B. Clagett … https://chaliceandcrucible.com/ … is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0) … https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ ..