another dead puppy

We used to joke
That every time Trevor laughed
Another puppy died

He was, by most accounts
A bald, evil
Fucker

He never laughed around us
His incompetent minions
But amongst his own cronies
He would laugh at the misfortune of others
Cripples, the poor
Concentration camps
Pictures of roadkill
And the elderly falling over
At least,
That’s what we assumed

He wanted to be king
Of his own little realm
And bad luck to you
If what you said
Wasn’t what he had heard I
In his head
Already

Sometimes, though rarely,
I would feel sad for him
In his black and white world
With nothing in between
And no room for anything else

I thought about surprising him
By pushing him out of a window
But the surprise would be
Short-lived.