nine-finger rebecca

she was white
and fucked up
she’d had her share of county jails
she was poor as fuck
and an alcoholic
she said some triggering shit at a party
and some people got up in her face
they were better educated
they hated that she was stupid and blue collar
so they gave her a little lecture
they told her to shut the fuck up
and to listen
listen for once, they said
they said she was born racist
she tried to tell them she wasn’t what they thought
that she was raped in foster homes
she said she was abandoned
she said she got hooked on junk
she said she wasn’t racist
she tried everything
she tried to say she was a good person
she mentioned her depression
the suicide attempts
the abortions
the streets
the cigarettes that various men put out on her
before she
“got clean”
the forced cam-girl saga, the bullshit
but no one would listen
they wanted her to bend the knee
they wanted her to admit she was a kardashian

but she was clever as a rat
as the insults were raining down on her
she got into the kitchen
and found a little paring knife
then she came back into the room and said
here’s your reparations motherfuckers
and cut off her finger in front of everyone
becky was a crazy broad

the prosecutor

everything he’d read had led to this moment
he was in a casey’s general store in rockville
oscillating between a slice of pepperoni
and a slice of supreme
he decided he’d just buy some chew
then he put a couple of pouches in
his upper lip
then he went out onto the highway
and walked in front of the cars
everyone swerved and missed him
then he went home and bought
some stuff on amazon
he bought a wu tang hat
he paid for prime to get free shipping then canceled
he had a couple vodka la croixs
then he checked on his kids in their beds
then the next day he went back to his job as
an assistant district attorney and started
a trial against another guy who
beat up his wife pretty bad

terry in the olive garden

sam was back in town visiting his old man. his old man had just retired.
his old man’s name was terrance but he went by terry. terry was kind of losing it. he had a closet of guns. he hadn’t had guns all his life but now he had a closet full. and he was sending his kids
weird links about the election and other stuff. q. shit.

sam and terry decided to go to the olive garden. terry said he wanted to speak italian with his hands. so they got some salads and breadsticks. then terry noticed a guy at another table not far off. the guy was in an electric wheelchair. one of the scooter types. he had an oxygen tank. the whole works. he looked like he didn’t have much time left. he was with a bunch of family. he was chewing on a breadstick.

well i guess the guy had bullied terry back in the sixties. bully ain’t the right word. he harassed the living shit out him, and gave terry a deviated septum for life. one of several beatings in front of everyone sophomore year.

terry got up and went over to him. the guy didn’t recognize him. terry told him his name. the guy broke into a smile. he must have thought they were pals or that it was all water under the bridge. that’s when terry took out his kimber .45. sam didn’t know he had it on him. people at the table started screaming. but terry got the gun up and under the guy’s chin nice and tight and everyone went quiet. the guy kind of squirmed in his scooter, as the hale left his face. he must have been pissing himself. terry had the gun up under his chin for a good minute thirty. watching the guy’s eyes. getting his retribution, or part of it. getting some kind of awful fix after all the decades. it was like he was feeding on it. then terry put the gun away. he had a little low-profile holster.

the cops got there in about 5 to 10. and terry was disarmed peacefully. he had thought about suicide by cop but he didn’t want to miss hannity that night. but he did anyway cause they carted him off to the county. i think his case is still pending. that’s what sam said anyway.

some guy i knew

he was born up north
he moved to the cities after middle school
he started a little lawn business after high school
then it went under
then he moved in with his brother, the pedophile
he worked at a little stand in the mall for a week
chasing people down with scents and creams
until he got fired
he still got his check for $276
he was 39
then one day he choked to death
on a dry rub wing
at a buffalo wild wings
it was a wild wing
then they spread his ashes
at the coon rapids dam
he was a racist fuck
a deadbeat who left a kid
for dead on the iron range
he had about two grand in
a roth account
after a year the two grand
escheated to the state

that crooked white cop stacy

he had yellow teeth
and yellow eyes
he was missing a finger on his left hand
he got a handy from a teenager once
there was an IA investigation
he got cleared
he did a desk job for a while
but then went back on patrol
and back to his old ways
he planted drugs
did drugs
he jacked wiggers for weed and money
he sold the weed back
and took their cash for sport
told the chromie thieves he was from chicago
he was from des moines…
he didn’t have any friends
he’d been married twice
he got drunk
he jacked shit
said he was in desert storm (he wasn’t)
he went through partners (cops)
he was untouchable
he had a little paunch…
he had an old lady…
some old brunette wino who ran a bingo hall
he had a couple of teenage sons who
he fought with
real all-out brawls like celine
described in london bridge
he had a little pill habit
yeah he steals from the TJ Maxx so what
enough about stacy
there are worse

the confidential informant

saw that murder of ben
looked like the curdled neck of a ruptured duck –
oh yes, it was totally a sight
not like he wasn’t reading his old
book of letters
the ones that de toqueville wrote back to his
mom and his sweetheart
the ones where he talked about
the ten people in detroit and
the beaver trade must economically
booming and such
not like it was so distant
from the time aladdin near had
his hands cut off for stolen fruit
[crack pipe hit, eyes burst]
chandeliers are gaining in popularity
as is crystal
as is crystal meth
funny you guys aint arrest
more of our ilk
not like we aint asking for a ruffing up
where was yes
the grapevine, figuratively
just leave your notes in a little citation
not one of your formal
charging instruments with bail and statutes
and the most ordinary signature of
His Honor
lets talk about you, you know
gemini and such
i can tell from your palm
you shoont have opened it
now we’re in, i’m in, me/him that thing
the british turncoat
[crack pipe hit, tongue escapes]
tongue gets put back in
thinkin on a minute of cutting it off
night-stick fuck stick fuk fuk fuk
then i’ll sing a song to yankees in limelight
chortle, fuck that
i ain’t test-fyin
you keeps me in confidences and such?

fenton’s road trip

fenton is all jazzed up
to meet his new girl
they’d met online
hemmed, hawed
pictured, puffed
fenton sent his junk
and gotten some too
some headless shots
he’d asked all the right questions
had given answers
long, loose, emoji nights
pics, dicks, lowercase, errata
he was pulsing, panting
desperate for his sweetheart
fenton hated his wife

his new girl asks him over
tells him to bring liquor
what kind he says
any kind she says
fenton makes the drive
about 45 minutes
he tells his wife he’s going to costco
and running errands

in the car he’s vibrating
his heart is on fire
for his new sylph
he stops for coors light
twelve in a pack
and some wine coolers
and some condoms

fenton pulls up to the curb
a distant suburb
the day is hot
he is sweating, bulging
his family jewels are on fire
he knocks
his girl answers
she is holding laundry
she says wait in there
fenton says it’s a nice house
he glances around
then he sees the sting
fenton is struck with reality
chris hansen enters stage right
chris has a stack of paper
invites fenton to have a seat
on the little barstool

fenton drops booze, frights, flees
he tears through the screen door
in the yard he is like a goose before takeoff
but he’s tackled hard and goes down
grunting, frantic
wishing he could eat his phone
it’s an old scene
now fenton is famous, kind of