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Pardon me

by Scott Utley

Pardon Me
By Scott Utley

Eighty-three minutes left. One hour twenty-three minutes thirty two seconds left. Thirty-one. Thirty. Twenty-nine. Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. I got to stop here a bit Think this out. What can I say that might make some kinda difference? I feel maybe I can shed some light on how yall look at things. Some light in your world. I won't be hangin around to see the final curtain but that's OK by me. The world I'm headin to be some fiery place down south somewhere. That's what that fella on the news said this mornin. Can't blame him I guess. Jesus H. Christ. Texas is cold. Colder’n a witch's tit. Even the java is cold. I did it. I ain't sayin I didn't. Musta been that damn speed. Tina they call it. Crystal Methamphetamine. Real vicious bitch. Devil's drug. All over this place too. Everywhere. Y’all don't even know yet. The shit's gonna hit the fan. Yep. Musta been the speed. In real life, I'd never hurt a fly. I deserve what I gettin. No real punishment a'tall if you ask me. One hour twenty-one minutes from now the show will be over for me but you...you'll still be here sufferin. You got the short end of the stick if you ask me. I know y'all ain't askin bout what I'm thinkin but that's what I'm figurin. You were stiffed. Fifty-six. Fifty-five. Fifty-four. Seconds. Feeling kinda weak. Life force gettin mighty low.

Almost gone. Near time to go. Hypocrisy? Yeah, that’s the word? Think so. How does a

solid, good old Judo-Christian society like wes got can condone the death penalty.

Don't make no sense if you think about it. Look at Betty Lou Beets. That old lady

they did in the other day. She suffered. Always cryin and teary eyed. I don't pay

much mind to other's hurtin so I don't know what she did. Done kilt some husbands or

something. Is that right? You don't need to think too hard to 'cifer out some truths.

The law and my Lords a tellin me I gotta pay for takin a life. Maybe society has to

pay too if it takes a life. You look at these kids round this great country of ours.

Columbine, that six year old the other day, the list is endless. You can tell them

anythin you want to but they see y'all put to death a person and that is what ya

teach them. It's ok to kill. Don't matter what you tell them, it's your actions and

what ya’ll do that is instructin em. I ain't preachin but I don't know how y'all

figure. Then I hear on the radio evangelists talkin bout the difference between

murder and killin. Don't make no sense what they're sayin. Think maybe it’s more to

do with them feelin good bout themselves. Rationalizin all the blood on their hands.

Living is sacred is what I say. I'm sorry to that fella's family. So sorry. Thirty-

three. Thirty-two. Thirty-one. Gotta go now. Think bout it, won't ya? If y’all run

into the devil, tell him Emmetts got a bone to pick.

12/01/2012

Posted on 12/01/2012
Copyright © 2025 Scott Utley

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 12/02/12 at 09:13 PM

...is this the scott utley i know and love? this one is ooompher! right to the gut. a venn diagram would cover much of society with this one. stout, scott.

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