May 2004 / Volume Five / Issue Two
Jason Floyd Williams
time again.

He was no Dillinger, thatís
for sureĖ
And his rag-tag, teenage crew
wasnít the best that a
small-town, crime circuit
could offer.

Claudia, his ex, drove
the Mustang thru backwoods
capillaries while Ponch
& cronies shot various
dog-tranquilizers & euthanasia
syrup into their legs.

Claudia had to testify
against Ďim later on.

She didnít snitch; however,
the time before when
Ponch & a different brood
busted into an amusement park
or on the third attempt
when he had skipped the
final cliff-notes pages
on building a meth-lab.

She wasnít a canary in
this example cause the
mock-monster lab blew-up
w/a dozen raised-eyebrowed
firemen standing side-line.

I was dating Claudia once
between Ponchís tours
in prison.

And once she was speeding
thru main drags to the vetís
while I held & massaged the chest

of a tiny kitten her daughter, who
was hollering feral-Comanche
in the back-seat, accidentally
drowned.

The small heartbeats in my hands
like a dying alarm-clock.