When the old man was done raping
and killing and thefting
and generally having a blast,
he wanted a place to refresh himself
and restore his good humor
so he went to his old home
which he had razed decades before
and searched for the old tree
that he had long ago cut for lumber
and he found the stump.

Why he’d left the stump
might be a story for another day.
Perhaps he’d taken all he could from the tree
as he’d taken all he could
from his three wives
and four children
all since disowned.
Perhaps the stump was left
as a reminder
to all who could see
not to mess with the old man.

He saw the stump
in his former back yard
and he said to himself
(and maybe to the stump, too),
he said: “This
will be a good place to rest
my weary bones.”

And it would be poetic if he died there and then
though it wouldn’t be just
because this old man,
he played bad,
and didn’t deserve a poetic ending
even if it was just an excuse for his ending.

In any event,
he didn’t die
and the stump wasn’t actually a giant venus flytrap
that swallowed him alive.
The old man rested
found himself rejuvenated,
got up
and achingly went on
to rape and thieve the world some more.

The old man probably had a name.
Fuck if I care enough to tell you.