The Supper Clubbed

The death on the Surfliner was disturbing,
to say the least,

there was proof of bludgeoning,
sometime after dessert and before breakfast,

and at 5:42am,
they discovered her body dismembered,
and her appendages plated in the dining car,

the smell of dusty crushed red velvet drapes was overwhelming,
and even the cadaver was a casualty of the archaic nature of this room,

There was a long day ahead,
to flambe the intestines,
to sautee both ears,
to julienne this all before the little piggies came aboard

the smell hovered like fog,
just long enough for them to mince the meat,
to bring this all to a boil,

just short enough to retire to their dressing rooms and cloak themselves in the appearance of unsophistication

The train would never stop,
this they knew,
trailing on toward the Pacific,
toward the promise of a dumping ground,
where they could contend with the contents of their dinner