As my victim was elimated coming from his Intro to Poetry class, I will record the events in a variety of cold- blooded poems. First, let me set the scene. I have been stalking at the Honors House for a while, going over the plan in my head. As his class lets out, I reflect on the lighter side of this game we call “life.” ahem

My thoughts turn to a jovial tune A boat at sea, kittens, balloons Because his life will reach high noon When he is struck down by my spoon

I say to him “Stan” “Yeah?” he speaks before he dies Unremarkable

My target was the fox known as Stan Who could not have turned and ran Ne’er had a chance In this circumstance He returns to where he began