contemplation of a drive-by

i had just drunk Nyquil

in preparation for sleep

when i heard what sounded like

someone taking a baseball bat to aluminum

siding:

whap. whap. whap. whap.

what the hell are these little bastards

up to now? I thought

and opened

the blinds.

across the empty lot

a man lay on his stomach

in a driveway

looking back over his shoulder

at four men in a car

one

with his hand out the window

pulling the trigger of a handgun

aimed at the man on the

ground.

he continued to watch

until

the man had emptied his clip

and the car

drove off leisurely

as if

cruising with no particular place to go.

i felt a sense of triumph for the man

as he clambered

to his feet

and extended his middle finger towards his enemies.

nice, they didn’t get him, i thought.

but as he

began walking away

i could tell he had taken one

for he clutched his thigh and dragged his foot

woodenly

behind.

at that moment

i felt a kinship with the man;

both

limping about

not bothering to call an

ambulance.

ten minutes later

there were cops swarming the block

like scavengers out for what carrion still clung to bone.

i could hear them talking about

bullet casings and retribution.

i kept my mouth shut

and

closed the blinds.

By A.M.

(Drugs and Culture)

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