Click to Subscribe
Shambling Mudshark Gangster Signaling
Midnight, Middle River, MD, 7/21/17
© 2017 James LaFond
JUL/25/17
Headed down the sidewalk across from me, was a shambling, neck-tattooed mudshark, dressed in cargo shorts and wife beater.
Prancing along beside her was a narrow-shouldered, big-headed mystery meat boy with a bowl-cut shock of straight hair hanging from a dome that might have been thought noble if not for the pencil neck supporting it. He was clad in baggy blue shorts and yellow shirt.
He questioned her about something in a squeaky tone and she raged, “Punk Muvafuca! I will fuck yo shit the fuck up!”
He then stopped, stepped into the street in front of the sewer, held something small in his hands and chirped, “I’ll throw it out!”
She shambled down into the gutter, chest-bumped him back up on the side walk and snarled, “Go ahead, you wanna show me punk muvafuca? I’ll show you!”
And off they walked, shoulder to shoulder, squabbling in minor tones of boister as they faded into my distance.
There was no moon in the sweltering sky, no breeze to move the leaves on their hanging limbs.
The dark gathered back around, the buckle hanging from my pack the only proximate sound.
On Bitches
Your Trojan Whorse
Uber Joe’s Swan Song
harm city
‘Cops Protecting Thugs’
eBook
orphan nation
eBook
menthol rampage
eBook
crag mouth
eBook
logic of force
eBook
the greatest lie ever sold
eBook
search for an american spartacus
eBook
battle
eBook
on the overton railroad
  Add a new comment below:
Name
Email
Message