Mystery Mail
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It read: “I hope this finds you well”
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To no avail
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You tipped the scale
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Now I’ll see you in Hell
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Sailing over this story’s arc
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A cardboard box that missed its mark
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Like a comet seen at dusk
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Like the Mayan twins born of the husk
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We were raised and flew at the very same height
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But fell individually from our flight
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I knew Daniel since high school in Benicia
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He sold cookies from his parents’ freezer
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But were we ever really ever close?
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Now Daniel’s gone and I’m his ghost
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He went north and I went east
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We had a plan- or an idea, at least
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From his cousin’s lab in Crescent City
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Daniel packaged two pounds for speedy delivery
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USPS to Greenpoint, Brooklyn
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Every gram sold while his cousin kept cooking
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Successfully, this went on
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For, oh, I don’t know how long
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One day I turned the corner onto India St.
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I must have turned white as a sheet
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Three policemen were standing on my stoop
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Talking to my girlfriend, Betty Boop
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I turned around never to see Betty again
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I’m sorry, Betty, I hope you understand
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I assumed they got to Daniel first
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In this line of work you come to expect the worse
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Some time later, the smirk was wiped from my smile
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I was arrested for hopping a turnstile
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Bones had told the warrant cleared after eight years
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So, naturally, on my court date I failed to appear
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Eventually, the cardboard comet had to fall
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I took a walk down the long hall
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The first thing I did from my cell
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Was write a letter in search of Daniel
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Daniel was indeed inside the lion’s den
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Not the only Lionkiller in a California State Penn.
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Daniel wrote me back in a matter of days
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No mention of whether or not crime pays
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He wrote: “You wouldn’t recognize my anymore”
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“I bet you’d rather be back cleaning toilets in Baltimore”
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“I’ll never make it out of this cell”
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“I guess the next time I see you will be in Hell”
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The letters stopped rolling in
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I heard Daniel was stabbed with a ballpoint pen
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About sixty times by his cellmate, Charles
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Now people talk about immortalizing him in marble
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Not everybody should be made a saint
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Daniel was good guy, but a saint he ‘aint
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Mystery Mail
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It read: “I hope this finds you well”
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To no avail
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You tipped the scale
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Now I’ll see you in Hell
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-----------------
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Mystery Mail
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| Cass McCombs |
