The monster jumps
from roof to roof,
With the formerly
gentle populace in pursuit
Or just below.
They have finally
And it is time for
the story to end.
He roars in pain,
his wounds of the body throbbing,
His wounds of the
He falls to the
And just before
the rabble surrounds him
shotguns, torches, and pitchforks—
A stray cat comes
up to him,
Swiping her rump
and tail around his prostrate body
As he lies broken
and waiting to die.
reaching out to stroke the kitty
But the crowd
comes forth and the cat disappears
Into shadows amid
The monster thinks
about that moment and smiles again.
What could be
better than sitting in a chair in a dim light,
neck of a contented cat? Probably nothing.
Then he closes his
eyes and, without a further move or sound,
He waits for what
will come, must come next.
And it does.
Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals in the last
dozen years. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published
Rosmus is a Jersey
girl who looks like a Mob Wife & talks like Anybody’s from West Side
Story. She works out 5-6 days a week, so needs no excuse to drink or do
whatever the hell she wants She’s been published in the usual places, such as Shotgun
Honey, Hardboiled, A Twist of Noir, Megazine, Beat to a Pulp, Out
of the Gutter, Mysterical-E, and Rock and a Hard Place. She
is the editor/art director of the ezine, Yellow Mama. She’s a Gemini, a
Christian, and an animal rights activist. She has recently been branching out
into photo illustration, under the guidance and mentoring of Ann Marie Rhiel.