Autumn’s Menace

A plainclothes policeman, using a pair of handcuffs as brass knuckles, cut the face of a boy who was wandering the city in a hospital gown. The sirens got louder. Windows rattled and the pictures on the walls shook. Sometimes I think it's not true that teaching a child to not step on a caterpillar will make you a better person. Sometimes I think the plainclothesman is going to walk through the door, so I just keep waiting. The city streets are deserted – no St. Patrick’s Day parade, no people. In these slow days of unease, everyone is a biohazard.

From Guest Contributor Howie Good

Howie's latest poetry collections are The Death Row Shuffle (Finishing Line Press, 2020) and The Trouble with Being Born (Ethel Micro-Press, 2020).

Street Hustle

“Hey man, wanna buy a Rolex,” the punk in the shiny nylon jacket asked as he approached me on the street.

"How much?” I asked as I looked around to see if he had a partner. He didn’t.

“Thirty bucks, and it’s the real thing,” he told me as he handed the watch to me.

I pretended to be examining the watch, when I said “hold on,” as I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my badge.

“Metro vice,” I announced as I reached for my handcuffs. He spun around and ran like Jack the bear towards Fremont.

From Guest Contributor Leroy B. Vaughn

Just Another Day

Officer Barrett aimed and fired his gun, hitting the man in the shoulder. The criminal dropped his weapon and screeched in pain.

“On your knees, hands behind your head,” Barrett said, cuffing the man’s hands.

“Take it easy, I have a bullet in my shoulder,” he wriggled as Barrett pushed him to his feet.

“Better than a bullet in your head, like you did to that poor woman’s husband. You’re going away for a very long time. This was your last house robbery.

Barrett put him in the squad car and slammed the door.

Just another day on the job.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher