Thriller Thursday: A Thanksgiving Secret (Almost) Revealed


When Charlie was a boy, he met the guy
Who first invented tracing ’round your hand
To draw a turkey. How the years did fly
Until in college, Charlie joined a band
Whose songs were coded messages about
The meaning of those drawings. They conveyed
A secret to the wise. As it turns out
They signal to our overlords who trade
In humans that Thanksgiving’s coming soon,
That day when tryptophan clouds all our minds,
Slows down our bodies, causes us to swoon,
And makes us easy pickings of all kinds.
Before the band could cut its record deal,
The guy showed up and crushed them ‘neath his heel.


Thriller Thursday: The Collie of Folly’s Literary Pick


My mistress bought it, but she could refuse
Me nothing in my last days, so the book
Was mine to read and love. I could not choose
A finer final storytime — and, look
I was a dog of taste, somewhat refined
But still enjoyed my thrillers now and then.
When Cities Fail — now really, that’s the kind
Of milieu that I like. I would have been
A great street preacher, or a femme fatale,
Or maybe both, in black and white with such
A noble profile, don’t you think? I shall
Come back as one next time. I have the touch.
At any rate, Matt Wallace is a scribe
Worth following, a credit to his tribe.

Thriller Thursday: Mission Abort!


“They’re onto me; I’ve got to go!” A call
That ends like that leaves anybody tense.
Delphine stared at her phone, struck dumb, a pall
Cast over lovely features. No expense
Was spared to make her beautiful, and she
Was most effective, as distractions go.
Her partner, though, whose rare ability
To ferret out what most they’d need to know
Was most important, sadly was inept
At social engineering. That she’d blow
Her cover was expected. Delphine wept
A moment, then pulled up her killer app.
Quick death alone would save them from the trap.