The Murder Mystery Genre

August 15, 2022 at 6:00 p.m.
Pat D'Amico, light verse contributor to Northwest Prime Time, has been known to laugh at the most inappropriate times
Pat D'Amico, light verse contributor to Northwest Prime Time, has been known to laugh at the most inappropriate times
...by Pat D'Amico

Now that I’m in my eighties, I have all the time in the world to read. It has been suggested that I get a Kindle so that I would be able to enlarge the print and take advantage of all the other electronic goodies, but I resist because I like paper with my words.

I love a good “who done it.” I will admit to a slight pang of guilt as I’m eagerly flipping pages and thoroughly enjoying the tantalizing story around the demise of a fellow human being. However, it does not stop me from penning a few thoughts of my own:


MANOR HOUSE MURDER

The butler was stifling a chuckle;
The widow was laughing out loud;
The corpus delicti who hung by his necktie
Was drawing a big beaming crowd.
The maid who was doing the dishes
Was snickering into the suds;
The gardener and pool man were shouting, “That’s cool man!”
And toasting each other with “Buds.”
One could guess that the victim was cranky,
Obnoxious, offensive or rude—
But the cops can’t begin to find who did him in
Till they tone down the jubilant mood.


LEMONADE AND OLD LACE

Aunt Dora was a dear old maid
Who served her suitors lemonade.
Despite her charm, none ever tarried
And sadly, Dora never married.
Her will detailed her lemon cup—
When Dora died, we dug ‘em up.


HANNIBAL LECTOR, DISOWNED BY HIS DAUGHTER

Okay, Daddy, here’s the scoop:
You ate up half my brownie troop.
And in my teens—surprise! surprise!
All my boyfriends dropped like flies.
In truth, I really lost my trust
The day that Grandma bit the dust.
So I won’t call and I won’t write—
I just don’t have the appetite.


A DISTASTEFUL SCENE

The decorator ran amok—
She had ruffled every space.
We all just stood there—horror struck—
As she bolted with the lace;
But scrawled upon a frou frou mirror
With a pretty purple pen
Was, “Someone stop me, for I fear
That I may frill again!”
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