This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... Down in the Dirt magazine (v119) (the September / October 2013 Issue) You can also order this 5.5" x 8.5" issue as an ISSN# paperback book: |
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Order this writing in the book Drowning (a Down in the Dirt collection book) |
get the 297 page July - Dec. 2013 Down in the Dirt magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book: |
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A tortured, heaving row,
Of shattered cars lay at the apex of her breast. Encompassing a skinless vestige, A lone body, it now did rest, Upon the street not but 50 paces Or so from her blurred vision. Her skipping ankles did buckle in strident leaps, All but vanished was her derision. Though the man that lay before her, Was not the man she’d thunk at all, But the one with whom she’d fornicated, So as to breach her suburban droll. Bart Sempser lay there motionless, His eyes wide and white with death. His cheeks and nose were shred right off, As if he dabbled in smoking meth. Dear Teddy sat in driver’s seat, Clutching down at his plastic, baggy savior, Only to see through rising heat, Josslyn’s peculiar behavior. For through glossy eyes, she now did cry, Upon Bart Sempser’s crimson, torn up sweater, While holding his dead head in tenderly in her arms whilst screaming “Why?” Upon the sight of Josslyn’s angst, Her impassioned soliloquy, A malignant thought then filled his heart: “Why has she gone to him and not to me?” In a surging flood of daze-filled hate, The man scrambled for his gun, Then stumbled out the driver’s side, And pointed it at the sun. The blood now seeped in dying waves from his stomach, It did seem. And sure enough, a sprig of glass, Was stuck therein and far between. Amid oozing guts, his pork-filled hole, He spat, “Surely, I will die...” “...Do I truly wish my final act, To bear the heading ‘Eye for Eye’”. So it was that dear Teddy dropped the gun And fell down to his knees with dread. And watched his woman bemoan the death Of his worm-food fated friend. All went black, with a final breath, he knew it was the end... ...Instead the wise, young man awoke Inside a soft, white-lighted room. Where a tender nurse, with creamy skin Above him now did swoon. “You’re a lucky one,” the words were plain, But he understood them all too well. For this hospital bed was holy writ, Compared to the rotting vestiges of hell... |