Poetry from the Inmate Who Killed Jeffrey Dahmer

Interesting….I thought that if you are a killer, you can't profit from your crime. Apparently, "I killed Jeffrey Dahmer" isn't allowed but a book of poems? That's ok. Below, a poem by Christopher Scarver, the prison inmate who killed Dahmer. It's from one of several books of poems he's selling on Amazon. You'll note the clever cover, that depicts the child behind the bars of his crib, and then the troubled child-man in prison.

Scarver was originally sent to prison when voices in his head commanded that he kill Steven Lohman. Who was Lohman? Just a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. Lohman worked at the job-training program at the Wisconsin Conservation Corps. Scarver had been bounced from there, but returned demanding money from one of the workers, John Feyen. Feyen coughed up $15, which wasn't enough. Scarver blew away Steven Lohman, and when Feyen knocked the gun away, Scarver ran off. He was quickly captured and convicted.

In prison, Scarver hated Jeffrey Dahmer, and so did almost everyone else. While conveniently protected at all times by prison guards, Dahmer would say and do obnoxious things. At least, according to Scarver. This included dousing ketchup on his prison food and acting like it was blood.

One fine day, Scarver felt that he was disrespected by either Dahmer, or another inmate/murderer. One of them had "poked" him in the back. Turning around, Scarver recalled, "I looked right into their eyes, and I couldn’t tell which had done it.” Scarver went after Dahmer first, crushing the man's skull. Then he killed the other man. Conveniently, no guards were around to stop him.

Scarver has a lady named Eileen Mackin on the outside who runs a blog for him, passes messages along for him, and upped the eBooks to Amazon. You can find more at the dot.com called 414scarver-solutions. Meanwhile, a look at Scarver's fine work on Mr. Dahmer, and an example of Scarver's poetry:

The Journey To Maturity#1 and #2

Back when my balls
Were bigger than my brain,
I did a few thangs
That some consider insane.
On my journey
To maturity
My psyche was infected
By many impurities
As a youth-unguided
I collided
With temptation
And I tried it.
Now that my brain
Is equal to my balls,
In retrospect, I can see
That I was bound to fall.
As I was bumping my head
Up against the wall,
That constant ringing in my ears
Was the Prophets’ call.
On my journey
To maturity
I’ve outgrown my
Childish insecurities.
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