The Unbecoming Curiosity of James Jenkins

The unbecoming curiosity of James Jenkins
Well, to account for all his misgivings and sins
It could take quite some time to tell the tale
One that could rival the size of Ahab’s whale
Some may say it’s tall, others may cry farce
And some others say the events don’t parse
But I insist the story of James Jenkins is true
You can even put it up for a judicial review!

It started when James was just a young boy
Causing mischief and trouble, his main ploy
He ran from hill to dale, skipping to and fro
One day he severed his ear to mime van Gogh!
It’s true James Jenkins had much ambition
In his spare time he fashioned a crude zip gun
He played Cowboys and Indians with Fred
Little did Fred know, the Indian would be dead

You know that James was just shy of thirteen
And with his doleful innocence got off clean
James Jenkins was smarter than they could think
They threw it all at him except for the kitchen sink
So there he walked, happy, footloose and free
Out of court and down the avenue for the sea
The young man-cum-murderer had to move on
Before they could crucify him at the dawn

James Jenkins held up his parasol in the rain
The woman in front of him keeled over in pain
He smiled wrly as the blood ran into the street
The papers would all say her name was Marguerite
James had pierced her heart through the breast
And traipsed off in a direction, north by northwest
Just past twenty-two and filled with bad intent
His unbecoming curiosity leading to his own torment

For years James Jenkins had only one good ear
The other, scarred remains left his victims in fear
And his skin as white as a gleaming cuttlefish bone
He sat silent and evil upon his murderous throne
Aging as time slowly passed the devious doer by
His unbecoming curiosity constantly asking him why
Why did you hurt them James, why kill them all?
“Quite simply, my dear, I wished to be ten feet tall”

Finally one evening James Jenkins turned to dust
To be honest, I’ve only just reached the upper crust
For this is a story too sad and too gruesome to be heard
In just one sitting in this timeless theatre of the absurd
Ah, but now I’m sure you want the rest of this story
That, my friend, will be your own personal quarry
It’s just that this could be inherently meaningless
For you and I are just pawns in James’ game of chess

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