by David Spicer
If anybody ever
asked me what days of my life I’d want erased,
it be those two
I watched Mona screaming as pushers raped
her, the woman
I adored when we embraced our lives as dopers.
They lived to
regret that and then didn’t live, after I took a rope,
pair as we listened to La bohème and
bodies with a rainbow-colored spade and then soared
high as falcons
who didn’t know the meaning of time nor speed.
Yes, we stole
their drugs and money after slitting their throats, spread
them, Mona lighting the match so they could reap
what they had
sown, yes, I regret that first night of our killing spree,
the night we
still run from, the night that will never lie in repose.
David Spicer is a former medical journal proofreader.
published poems in Santa
Clara Review, Synaeresis, Chiron Review,
Remington Review, unbroken, Third Wednesday, Yellow Mama, CircleStreet, The Bookends Review,
The American Poetry Review, Ploughshares, Gargoyle, The
Midnight Boutique, and elsewhere. Nominated for a Best
of the Net three times and a Pushcart once, he is the author of one full-length
poetry collection, Everybody Has a Story (St. Luke's Press)
and six chapbooks, the latest of which is Tribe of Two (Seven
CirclePress). He lives in Memphis. His website is www.DavidSpicer76.com/HOME | Mysite
Ann Marie Rhiel is the Assistant Art Director
for Yellow Mama Webzine. She was born and raised
in Bronx, New York, presently living in New Jersey. She
reconnected with her passion for art in 2016 and has had her work exhibited
in art galleries around northern New Jersey ever since.
She is a commissioned painting artist, who also enjoys photography.
Her work has also appeared in Black Petals
and Megazine Official.