December 10, 2018

 

Knave

 
 
 

Knave

Full of himself flaunting
his black leather jacket
covered with silver studs.

Bling hangs from his bulging neck.
Flashy zircons, deep cologne,
tattoos, piercings, purple hair.

Puffed up, he struts across alleys.
Headlight eyes scoping
each corner searching prey.

Pushing down anything
in his way. Sniffing rear
doors, sniffing out death.

His hands move like claws
through shadows with
crooked nails buffed blue.

Lugging a bag of tricks loaded
with brass knuckles, chains,
zip guns, switchblades, knives.

Opening his cavern mouth,
smacking wide lips, he drains
a cool cocktail of ruby red blood.






Article © Joan McNerney. All rights reserved.
Published on 2017-11-20
Image(s) are public domain.


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In the same series:

Knave

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How Trouble Grows
Eleventh Hour
Broken Dream
Fear
Long Haul Driver