Comparing Imaginary Hit Men

In Poetry on October 29, 2011 at 11:55 pm

We both alleged
that we had people
to take care of people
late one night

dancing a frenzied
duel of deadly
loaded gun

hers are from the
refinery rows of Jersey
with furled brows
mumbling over Chianti
in storefront back rooms

mine are clad in
twinkling chains
over pasta guts
and combed chest hair
on the sands of Florida

Posturing and make believe
are synthesized in
this suburban drunk of ours,
our fictitious boogie men
are guarding our false honor

Passed out and in my dreams
are boys both met
and fumbled their guns
and blew each other away

too many movies
too many games
too much alcohol
too many pills

we’re are own
hit men


Kevin Ridgeway is a writer currently living in his native Southern California in a bungalow beneath the shade of an avocado tree. His roommates include his girlfriend and their one-eyed cat. Sometimes he and the cat engage in prolonged staring contests. Recent work has appeared in Underground Voices, Hobo Camp Review and Pipe Dream. When not writing or staring, Mr. Ridgeway is an amateur avocado farmer.


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