Guide to Sydney Crime by Les Wicks - HTML preview

Paul Scully

Lithe Evil

‘Shiv”, Shiva the Destoyer, shiver

–a sonata of spine and fear–

I have loved this word waywardly,

the sleek espionage of how it

infiltrates a ribcage, punctures

a lung, the sectioning of an artery,

lengthwise or transversely, each

a delight in terminal craftmanship.

(I am also fond of “stiletto”.)

My first sallies were rehearsals

in pain, a buttock in an ATM queue,

an eye to an escaping corner, an arm

clutching a backpack strap

in a train entranceway, flight

through a just-in-time door.

I experimented with hidey-holes

until a sleeve-seam presented itself

as home for a wiry scabbard

and I devised a means of shaking

it free, unobtrusively.  Now

I cut a fine figure prowling

the laneways and night shadows.