MURDER IN THE ENGLISH FASHION
Murder in the English Fashion
(For Agatha, Conan & Co.,)
Murder, in the English Fashion,
a phony will, a hidden passion,
there’s Something Nasty happening
in a country garden,
a Scandal looms,
they call “the Yard” in.
Jealousy plays its part as always,
a tangled web of Lust and Greed.
An Inspector calls in at the Manor,
Everyone is wearing tweeds.
The Wrong Man is of course arrested,
as a sop to Interests vested.
Then when all is most confused,
in comes the brilliant, pale Recluse!
Or perhaps somebody’s maiden Aunt
is called to take the Case in hand.
At all events, they need an Expert,
perhaps some fop from foreign lands?
Amiable, they ask their questions,
that seem of little consequence,
the Coppers snort and smirk derisive,
it ain’t what they call Common Sense.
(Nursing ancient grudges,
the sullen, silent servants
know a thing or two.
Lurking in the corridors,
the Vicar has his secrets too.)
The Denouement comes, obedient,
they gather in the parlour like
some children’s nursery game.
Even the police are keen to learn
who dunnit, who to blame.
The Expert coldly leads them through
red herrings, alibis and clues.
The masks are dropped, we learn the Truth,
some trivial point reveals the proof.
The Villain confesses, gladly, all,
they want to have their story told,
(a motivation stronger than
Freedom, hate or stolen gold.)
Politely they are lead away,
the Detective, having solved the Case,
marks the return of Normality,
with muffins and a cup of tea.
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Tune in next week for the exciting sequel to this sermon.. “Murder the American Way”!
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The Reverend Hellfire is a practising performance poet and an ordained Minister of the Church of Spiritual Humanists AND the Church of the Universe.
He could have ruled the world but he’s a very lazy man.
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Reverend Hellfire's Sunday Sermon 
An everyday activity – apparently – a crueller form of darts, whose taget may be a human torso, or head, all grimly displayed for forensics and family – just another crime, similar in kind to the Republican Campaign for the presidency: to quote a verse from my poem Yello, Grim and Gey, if I may, your Reverend Hellfire:
Ferocious Beasts of ill repute I prefer yours to mine because there is
have all it takes
to run for preswident so much more poetic blood and gore.
of the unitede States. (sic)
Thanks for your invitation to join your glorious complex while I am alive – so tempting to an atheist like me. The publicity would be tremendous, Atheist arrive at paradise in good heath, and is prpared for a long stay. Imagine the reaction from the world of darkness, the nether regions – where old Nick could burn his dick – as a sacrificial offering for the boiling sick! There would be a catacysm of course, Armageddon would be brought forward, while we would all be enjoying paradise, courtesy of the blasphamous Reverend Hellfire’s cosy retreat, where a new world governemnt and culture could be on the way, If everything goes to plan and the yanks don’t bomb Iran into the stone age.! A lot ifs. But we surely must make an immoral stand and get notoriety for our views, and change our decaying democracy away from a system of plutocracy, to the Reverend Hellfire’s way novel way.