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Poetry Magnum Opus

Retirement [Adult]


fdelano
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Retirement

 

 

 

I knew the little bastid was totin',

 

hell anybody could see it in his swagger

 

as he came up the alley, him hoping

 

to collect the snuff without the bread.

 

 

Someone had stuck a snub-nose in his belt

 

at the back was my guess. I waited,

 

my back against the damp brick alley wall.

 

 

 

“Hey, Frank. Yer looking relaxed

 

for a man owes his balls or the vig

 

to the man.”

 

 

 

I dragged at my Camel

 

stub, then let it fall into waste water

 

trickling down a low groove in the

 

cobble-stones between dark walls.

 

 

 

Jimmy came too close, confident for a change.

 

When he got within reach, I snap-kicked

 

and broke his left knee with my steel-toe.

 

 

 

“Never saw that one coming did you,

 

you little shit?

 

 

 

As he buckled, trying to reach the

 

pistol, I right-crossed his left chin

 

and he went down solid on his fuckin’

 

head, not a yelp, to his credit.

 

 

 

They would know I could have killed

 

the toadie with one palm to his nose,

 

but I let him lie still after takin’ the blow

 

from inside his jacket, just like we’d made

 

the deal and he had run his fuckin’ mouth

 

one time too many. I kept the money

 

that would get me the fuck outta town.

 

 

 

I lit another butt and turned little Jimmy

 

over on his stomach with my boot to

 

check his wallet, knowing he didn’t have

 

jack shit, but reached under his jacket and took

 

the .38 Targus, five rounds in the chamber.

 

With the dum-dums it would bring a good

 

three hundred in another city.

 

 

 

North on the bus got me to Montreal,

 

where a scared little blonde bitch

 

put me up, keeping her yap shut like

 

I taught her years back.

 

 

When I woke up, she fixed me eggs and got the passport

 

and the bank box key. Five hundred

 

would keep her faithful, at least until I stashed

 

the blow and a few thou just in case.

 

 

 

My flight to Zurich and two double bourbons

 

helped me relax and plan how I was going to fix up

 

my mug, maybe get a local beret for good measure.

 

 

 

The 747 touched down gently, like my polished

 

wingtips when I boarded the transit bus to the terminal.

 

She stood there, blond and stacked, looking happy and more

 

as she stuck her lips on top of mine.

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

i had to read this a few times to get the gist of it. excellent story telling. each of the three times i read it, i was glued from beginning to end. thank you. by the way? you didn't get caught I take it?

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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I'm retired, Lash. :-8)

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Tink & Bren, I had no purpose except to see if I could write a dime novel in a few verses. Meaningless.

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Crap! You found me out, Tony. :ph34r:

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Larsen M. Callirhoe

ha, go fish!

 

and i will raise you the ante.

 

victor

Larsen M. Callirhoe

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