Five Outlaw Poems From Dennis Gulling’s Book The Blood Dark Sea


Eating some toast and watching Star Trek: The Next Generation on BBC America. Episodes from the early part of season one. Promotional work for The Blood Dark Sea by Dennis Gulling is going well. Several reviewers are interested. Because I am the entire sales and promotion department for Zombie Logic Press I am still awake at 2 a.m. eating toast and watching Star Trek. Here are five poems taken sequentially from the book. The laundry will beep soon then I’ll unload the dishwasher and take the recycling out to the canister and then try to pretend I’m tired and should go to bed. Here are five Outlaw Poems for you.
There was a broken
Beer bottle on
The kitchen floor
He was in the bathroom
Sitting on the toilet
Holding a bloody towel
To his head
The baby cried
In the bedroom and
There were sirens
Coming down the street
She did a dance
On the front lawn
Stabbing the darkness
With a steak knife
Still listening
To that voice
In her head saying
It was nearly closing time
When I walked in
Teeny the bartender
Was sprawled out behind the bar
With a red lightning bolt
On the side of his bald head
A lead pipe on the bar
Was stained with the dull glisten
Of something sticky
And Rube Norman was standing
Over the open cash register
Stuffing bills into every pocket
He didn’t bat an eye at me
Just said if I wanted anything
To help myself
I reached under the bar
Took a mug from the sinkboard
Poured myself a Miller
And sat staring straight ahead
At the mirror
Watching the vein in Rube’s forehead
Bulge out like a blue worm
He drove around
For a while on back roads
Then stopped at a motel
About 30 miles south
It was hot as hell
And humid
But he kept his jacket on
So the clerk wouldn’t see
The bullet wound in his arm
Checked in under
A fake name
Went to his room
And splashed cold water
On his face
Caught a glimpse of himself
In the mirror
The eyes were black holes
Frozen in the light
He was roughly the same build
As the man they were looking for
Wore a coat the same color
And had a mustache like he did
It was night so they didn’t
Get a good look at him
Followed him to a phone booth
Watched him drop a coin in the slot
And dial a number
They drove up
Emptied two machine guns
Into the booth
Then slowly pulled away
A woman’s voice
On the other end
Of the line was saying
Is somebody there?
While red roses
Bloomed and melted
On his chest
Flesh Wounds TLVaultonburg
Flesh Wounds is a book of Outlaw Poetry by Thomas L. Vaultonburg
Sparks was running
From the jewelry store
With a cop on his heels
When he ran
Out in front of the semi
Went down
Under the wheels
In a squeal of brakes
Diamond rings
Spilled from his hands
And glistened
In the blood



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