Thursday, May 22, 2008

Gaze a Gazeless Stare.

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Lying in my trap round midnite and all silent. Sudden burst of rapid pops - like the sound of a string of firecrackers - but then the pingpingping of ricochet bullets careening of the side of my apartment building. Screams - shouts - silence. Black wind howls through dead trees.The screech and wailing of cop cars and Federale trucks pulling up. I get dressed and walk onto the balcony to a post war zone - taxi riddled with bullets issuing black smoke, six bodies slumped on the dirty pavement with a stream of blood flowing to the gutter. No ambulance for these narcos. No firetrucks like in the good ol' USA. Nothing for them. Bodies are holstered up and thrown in the back of a pick up like dirty laundry. Young M-16 welding black uniformed military look on with cold animal hate.
I light a Lucky and grin, Goddamn - back in Juarez.

2 comments:

Hermes said...

Where did your MySpace go?

Walter said...

I may have to watch 'Resevoir Dogs' now.