These streets
the back of my hand
my stomping grounds
my happy hunting
These windows
witnessed every jape
every Casanova move
every moonlit rebuff
These doors
guarding jealous lap-dogs
locked in tight
wishing for my run
These streets
the back of my hand
now colored red and blue
alarm flash siren wail
His life pulsed out of him
all over the hilt
spattering on cobblestones
already slick with mold
His breath at my neck
weakening as the blade
twisted deep in his belly
drawing the end
These streets
the back of my hand
escape route planned
implicit in memory
The gate though
the gate was new
razor-wire unclimbable
dead-end cul-de-fin
The turn
bringing me back
rozzers already crowding
my one route out
These streets
the back of my hand
closing in sensory overload
and that music, that music!
Cooling corpse
these handcuffs
rough hands seizing biceps
head bowed into the car
Somewhere down the alley
A radio played a song
from another
lifetime
From the prompt: “Somewhere down the alley, a radio played a song from another lifetime.”
Leave me a prompt and I’ll write you a little something 🙂
