Cap’n Kilo

the Scourge of Cellblock Ｃ

Guilty they found him. Man he was irate!
Transformed in an instant to cell-block pirate.
No cutlass or dagger has he for a blade,
Still bombast and swagger is his stock-in-trade.
Left alone in the showers, his treasures — behold:
He pees on the tiles, with his own liquid gold,
while he whistles. Then empty, he gives it a yank,
strutting back to his cell as though walking a plank.

Some wind up in prison for theft or carjack,
But slick Cap’n Kilo got caught slingin’ crack.
As his nickname suggests, he thought it was wise,
To buy low then sell high, economy sized!
He headquartered in an old Chinese pagoda
and cooked up his wares with pure white baking soda.
His rocks were the best of the best to be bought,
and though skilled as a cook, he just kept getting caught.

A land-yacht he cruised ‘round the neighborhood streets,
To regular customers, nodding he’d greet.
Though little remained of the glamor of youth,
One part glittered yet, his lone, golden front tooth.
Outstanding…