ham fisted theatrics

one chasing
the other, chased

two men climb out the windows
to exchange fire

to put holes in the bumper
and hopefully, the boss

one hand on the trigger
and they could probably aim better
if they used the other one
to hold up the barrels of their tommy guns
but they need that
hand to hold their fedoras on
in the
wind.

sure, they could throw them
in the backseat.

but they'd be damned
if they're going to
take their hats off
for these
bastards.



I scan the faces of people I see in the grocery store
parking lots
at the mall
and in line at the DMV
and remember them
their clothes
their demeanor
down to the last detail
for a day or two
or more
if I can manage

because I figure a day or
two
is pretty much the statute of limitations
on
two gruff detectives showing up to my door
asking if I know anything about the whereabouts of so-and-so
whom security video shows I was getting gas
the same time as
and now she’s nowhere
to be
found.

I will be able to tell them
what song her car radio was
playing
and whether she seemed stressed
or
skittish
or
on the run from the mob:
they say anything you can remember might be helpful
and the more I can remember
the more helpful I will be.

I hope strangers do the same for me
behind me
in the checkout line
aware of the fact that I might end up strangled
with an orange extension cord
at the bottom of a river
and they could help police locate
my body
and speed the swift
application of justice
to my assailants
just by noticing the
curious way I loaded a can of
prunes out of my cart
or
how one New Balance sneaker was
untied.




I am a production assistant
on a Western
shooting in the dry nowhere
between Phoenix
and Mexico.