The keys jangled outside the door.
Wrong one.
Another attempt.
The lock clicked.
Silence.
Door opened.
Street light behind silhouette.
Figure casts shadow onto carpet.
-
Smell of gunpowder.
And copper.
Hands wet.
Drops on face.
Dealer on floor.
Lines on table.
Snorts through straw.
More in a bag.
It was now all his.
Footsteps outside.
Approaching fast.
Grabs gun.
Ran for switch.
Lights off.
Knock at the door.
Keys jangle.
-
Walking backwards.
Dragging corpse.
Clothes caught on splinter.
Shirt ripped.
Wouldn't mind.
Out back.
Asphalt wet.
Shoes crunch.
Lifted body.
Lain on bench.
Looked asleep.
-
Shadow enters.
Keys glint from light outside.
Hear him smelling air.
It reeked of death and drugs.
He fumbles for light switch.
Could have stopped him.
Something cold.
A knife slides in stomach.
Light snaps on.
Figure sees us two.
Both bleeding.
Runs away for phone.
Dealer gets up.
Wipes knife.
-
Stood up.
Bleeding from shot wound.
Might heal.
Looks down on customer.
Gotta hide the body.
Need the coke back too.
Pockets the dimes.
Grabs legs.
Drags body from room.
-
Glass doors swing open.
Chimes.
Phone next to vending machine.
Dial tone.
Three numbers.
Response.
Description.
Soon sirens.
-
Leaves body on bench.
Staggers.
No cover.
Sirens.
Falls to knees.
Crawls.
Under stairs.
Fetal.
Fatal.
Black.
Then white.
-
19/04/2012
Dan K. Grosvold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem