Burke and Hare
but defining murder involves as much wordsmithery
as the trickery required in performing the very act,
not to mention becoming a pro body herder.
Imagine the winding alleyways of 19th-century Edinburgh,
ripe with real blackness and grime,
the breeding ground for swine,
the playing place of hungry whores and their desperate johns.
Why, such is a site for crime and slime,
just the site for the evil Laurel and Hardy to strike.
Smother the face. Suppress the chest. No knife, no gun.
No blood, though plenty of sweat and sometimes tears.
The Royal College thanks you, you gentlemen, you fools.
There are no heroes here, only victims of two kinds.
The first plainly being the deceased.
Yet the killers suffered victimhood from their own avarice,
assisted by the sort of friendship that binds
two scam artists, two hustlers, two pawns.
Burke and Hare—horrifically together as one
in the name of fortune and medical revelation,
but mainly what goes click and clank and pays the rent.