Dewey, Jackson's twin, is F.B.I.

Ruben is a bad guy.




Ch. 6: Meanwhile . . .

 

Life is too short, too short for this,

Dewey mutters to himself—waiting in a hot car,

on a hot street, on a hot night in Chicago,

watching one gang-banger after another score or be screwed.


The chances of his man, Ruben, showing up

run fifty-fifty, fair odds, still—

Here he comes, low-rider, badass, dangerous.


Ruben's boys slide out of the car, Ruben waits.

They go in. He waits. They come out, stand aside the door.

Ruben goes in, comes out ten minutes later

with what—a hundred thousand, two-hundred, who knows?


Dewey has what he came for, faces and a locale—

confirmation—enough for the next move.

Dewey drives off, the a.c. killing the Chicago heat.





Poetry by jim The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 110 times
Written on 2016-09-06 at 23:47

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text



Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
"...killing the Chicago heat." I love that phrase. That whole line is edgy and smooth all at the same time.
2016-11-20


Coo & Co The PoetBay support member heart!
All at Coo & Co enjoyed reading this. The short sentences lend a lot of tension! 'Yikes, jim,' adds Coo :>o
2016-11-15


montana
this is fantastic. wonderful
2016-11-07


Lawrence Beck
I'm enjoying this series a great deal. If Raymond Chandler had been a poet...
2016-09-07