a racketeering Bill

a body lay still on city asphalt, blood ran

over a yellow broken line

 

white chalk around another stiff as a

camera flash lit up a

 

corner of dark,

 

john doe is toe tagged and shoved in

the back of an ambulance

 

late night thunderstorm rolls in like

a sea tide over sand

 

rain like silver bullets ricocheting off

a warped, aging tin roof

 

steam rises up off pavement, liquid

wet movement washes away blood

 

jane doe dragged on a cigarette, she

wasn’t after the tobacco, was

 

after the ash fire

to touch her lips

 

they were like fresh fruit, and he

knew how to eat them

 

she had gams that went from here

to there and back again

 

and she loved when he ran his hand

up them for a cop

 

loved the taste of her skin, breathed

in her sweat, her scent

 

she was his and nobody touched her,

 

put a guy in the morgue−paper fingered

him with his chicago typewriter;

 

his operation controlled the east side by

a riverfront where boats drank

 

dirty water,

bodies

floated,

homeless

 

fished for a left boot,

 

all watched from an old warehouse,

money was cleaned, then laundered

 

but, an undercover cop was hot in

pursuit, was out to get

 

him, didn’t care about the loot,

 

threw the cuffs on him during a

midnight raid, moonlight sang

 

and danced;

 

a racketeering Bill recognized the

scent, shoved her badge in

 

his face where stubble from a bad

shave got irritated

 

he tried to bolt,

she fired, sent

 

him to the floor, “he’ll live”

 

now doing a stretch at Dannemora

fifty years to life…

 

Copyright © 05/26/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

Image

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