Heat Wave

I rest my head against the fan

Sighing softly with a whine

“It’s so… hot.”

The words, simple, but barely forming

The shimmering bones beside me clatters

“It’s not hot, it’s the humidity”

The difference is lost on me

Sweat pooling beneath me

Oh to fall in the cool reflection

Never suffer this withering blast again

The world seems empty here

The sun driving all that crawls and cries to flee

All except a shadow by my door

The crow outside begs for rain

You and me both, buddy

The setting of the sun will bring no relief

The clay we built our hell on

Clinging to this cloying heat

Jimmy Rossi Interview

We have another one. Four gun shot wounds to the chest. I fear for what seems to be bubbling up… a lot more corpses than usual.

I’m preparing him now. The candles are lit and I’m just about ready… I’ll record what is said here.

Christ

The pain

It’s unreal

Digging

Worming into me

Who am I?

Jimmy “The Hammer” Rossi

Show some fucking respect!

Yeah that’s right

I’m an enforcer

A made man

And I was on the hunt

For a little rat

Named Frankie Costello

Slim scum sucking skimmer

Took us for near on half a mil!

I had him cornered

Cowering and babbling on

“Not what you think!”

And

“He’ll do me in Jimmy!”

I didn’t listen

Cocked the hammer

My hammer

Then the retort

Four sharp snaps

Blasts

I was on my face

And all was black

Puttana snuck up behind me

Never heard him coming

That’s all I know!

Now let me rest!

I let Jimmy go then.

So someone intercepted Frankie and made sure he wasn’t taken out… but why? Someone who wanted the money he had skimmed from his family? That seems the most likely reason to me.

Powerful

You thought I’d die

I’d never make it without you

But look now upon me

In all my terrible glory

I’d rend you limb from limb

Consume your every fiber

For what you did to me

You taught me I was weak

Did you do that

So I’d rely on you

Or so I would never find

Just how powerful I am…

Just how weak you are?

Rushing Wind

Grunts of effort as I slowly lower

Lower the basket down

Down to my love

Laden with jugs of water

Fresh rain caught

She guides the basket

To the base of the tree

Lifting carefully one jug

Sipping softly life affirming

Life rejuvenating water

Quickly I retract the basket

Water secured below

Now laden instead with empty jugs

Replacements for yet more water

I grasp the basket as it comes within reach

Quickly placing the five jugs beneath the tarp contraption

I smile and ease my leather slings over the branch above me

Sidling out farther over thinner branches

Wind whipping me up some this far above

I release one of my slings and carefully toss it towards the next tree

Rain catcher awaiting my arrival

New branch snagged I ease my foot off of the tree

Stretching

Reaching for the next

My foot finds purchase and I leap over

Swing catching my other sling

Over the branch which now stretches out above me

I can hear my love gasp below

Always concerned about the speed with which I traverse these treetops

“Careful Matthew!”

She cries out

Slapping the trunk of the tree I now hang from

“It’s fine!”

I call back

“You worry too much”

She scoffs

“I worry just enough, thank you!”

I reach with one hand and lift

With a grunt

One jug at a time into the basket

Easing then this precious package down

Down

Down to her

We repeat the trade as before

And then I eye the next tree

One more for today

Careful

Precise

Wrist flicking leather sling

Grasp

Reach

My foot lacks purchase

The gasp scarcely leaves my throat

I hear the wind whipping

Feel branches scratch and claw

Reaching

Something rushing

River loud

A scream

Not mine

Then…

So, I’m collabing with my lovely Amberley on a collection of poetry. To read more from this world go check out the poem she posted on her Word Press!Make sure you follow her cause she is an amazing poet and you need to do yourself a favor and get her work in your life.

Rain Blind

The heaven’s weeping

Splattered the world

Into an impressionist mosaic

The road slickened to the white of the sky

More like cloud run-off than concrete

Leaving the edges of my path

Merely a suggestion

“I’m sure though,”

I convince myself

“I can ease out another mile, or two, per hour”

My Favorite Color is

Cerulean skies bend to us

Bend down to us

Enwrapping our bodies

Cobalt crash river blast

Swirls our souls in cyan sound

We don ultramarine masks

Only we see behind

Bice bear runs beside indigo wolf

Viridian plays over our forms

We bask in this azure light

Never to ascend without the other

And now my favorite color is you

Roaring

Steps fly

Barely skimming stone

A lindyhop nearing flight

Arms awhirl

We flash daggers

Saber rattle

Without a word

But he knows not

Who he chose to showdown

I’m the B’s and E’s

All nights end on me

Ossified and ready for a fight

And now I see him flag

Everything is Jake

He collapses in a panting, grinning mess

I slip him some voot

A bit of the dog on me

I’m zozzled but the night’s as young as me

“Let’s blouse!”

I bark and Johnny’s line up behind

This town’s mine to dance down

Nostalgia

Gently he opens the case

“Thin Places” he reads aloud

Removing the disc within

He eyes the scratched surface

Reflective rainbow glistening

With greatest care places within console

Tray whirs closed with a click

He holds his breath

Disc spins to life

A moment of nothing

Then the splash screen

It has loaded

A sigh of relief

The screen transitions

A pulsating mess of reddish hues

Throbbing low bass crawls from speakers

The console growls low thumping softly

Steadily

Rhythmically

TV bulges at its edges

Red glistening flesh peaking through

He picks up a controller grinning eagerly

Something thin and sinuous wraps around his thumbs

“Best game…”

His voice comes

Unbidden from the TV’s crackling speakers

Hostel Care

I’ll care for him

As long as I need

Dab cool cloth on forehead

Loving gestures aplenty

A sip of water soothes

His parched throat

Fed on herbs

Specially picked

And fresh hare

Invigorating mixture

IV collects crimson life

Bags of it line my cooler

His back a mess

Of pustulant bedsores

His arms chained

Frail little things

His face is gaunt

But eyes alit

And his heart beats

Still strong and full

Of such wondrous nectar

Yes indeed

I’ll care for him

As long as I need

Sustenance

Gorehound

Cross handle

Sharpened hook

Dragging flesh

He grunts as he arrives

Resting hand against Ash tree

Swings wound rope

Up and over limb

Dragging slowly

But surely

Carcass raises

Flies swarm

Irritated at shifting

Once in position

The man ties down to the trunk

Wind howls between the trees

Something else joins in howling

He eyes the distance about him

Adjusting the hook in his hand

The sun is still up

He had time to get home