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Postcards from Exile, a Mike Brennan chapbook enjoy this writing from
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A Honeymoon’s Hollywood Ending

Mike Brennan

His wife had never been to Los Angeles
She wanted to see the stars scattered along the sidewalks
& the looming sign so symbolic of the movies
& the golden gods and goddesses
Who stage our lives upon the silver-screen.

They spent some time soaking up sun-rays spread out
side by side            along the beach
& walked down the boardwalks
hand in hand            lips occasionally seeking lips
& walked back to their rental car
With his hands gently massaging her pregnant stomach & hips.

“I love you” she said.
“I love you more,” he replied,
Searching his pants pockets for their rental car keys.

He looked up to see-
A brown gloved hand holding
A pistol to the back of her strawberry blonde head.

“Get the fuck inside. We are going for a ride.
& don’t say a word or you’ll both fucking die.”

He was horrified but quickly complied
To the masked man’s demand
As she softly cried
With all the faith that they were both too young to die

They drove in distilled silence
With the stranger in the back
Until they reached a deserted desert plot
Where the man told him to park & slowly step out

“Empty your pockets and give me your purse
I’m taking your car and you’ll leave in a hearse”

A hole had been dug into the gravely sand
& as they were ordered to kneel
He fondled the ring he had just days earlier
Placed on her finger &
The last thing he heard was the man’s pull the trigger.



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