Ice Man

He was very good at two things: cooking eggs benedict, and killing people

oh, he was good at a lot of things, but very good? a master of the craft?

yeah, just those two things…

the former he learned from his mother, who was a very

patient teacher, her apron tied so carefully

around her slender graying hips

the latter he learned from New Jersey, impatient,

its rain so very carefully tied around its own graying hips,

the day he first shot someone

he told himself, it’s just business;

So he tells himself its business when he taps his wife on her head

as she wipes the last of his eggs from her chin, its business when

his children clasp his knees when he head out the door,

down to the sporting goods store, where he buys a

Remington 12 gauge and gets ready to really start his day;

He tells himself its business when the unlucky old man

leans into the passenger window with a helpful grin and

gets a crossbow bolt to his forehead for his trouble, just dead

because a crossbow could be an imperfect killing machine

and he’s now in the business of knowing;

He tells himself its business when he uses his bulk, his enormous frame

and leans in, seeing the fear in their face, the quick beat of their

heart when they behold cold black eyes and they know death

has come from them;

He says its business but I know him, though we’ve never met

I see those cold black eyes and that little knowing grin

he was good at two things: cooking eggs benedict

and killing people,

both were fun for him.