pogo

The other night I dreamt about him.
john wayne gacy, jr

convicted of torturing, raping and murdering 33 boys, in the seventies

Sometimes he'd dress up as a clown for them.

bodies were unearthed in the crawl space under his middle class home in the Chicago suburbs

* * *

I was a bounty hunter. ( i secretly think bounty hunters are neat). In this dream, I had to find john wayne gacy. the entire time i searched for him i could hear the cries of the families who grieved the violent loss of their young sons. I could hear the horrified and devastated cries of his unsuspecting wife. I could hear her breaking. I could hear them... the young voices from the floorboards, begging for rescue. begging for life.

I searched for him.....

and i found him, rather quickly and when i did the cries disappeared. Now, it was my own tears I could hear, as they met with his. For some reason, I had expected our first encounter to be quite different. I anticipated I would tackle him down victoriously; possibly break out some swaggering cool fight moves, that im only allowed doing in dreams. but instead, i collapsed on the ground beside him. I kissed his forehead. I held him. and i didn't want to let go. I held him, and together we cried.

* * *

Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets i have hid