The Weekend Edna Turned Out to be Elvis

At the Casino, she glided
between islands, tossed
ones in the air. Met the hands
of a dark stranger, kissed behind
his ear on her toes. Whispered
come hold me tight, kiss
me my darling. Be mine tonight.

Tucked in her bra strap,
a wad of ones to fake-
out the dealer. She read
how in a story once. Thought
It’s now or never.
In her garter, a Russian self-
loading 7.62 Handgun, no
bigger than her palm.

Thought of Orson only once, when
in the elevator, her garter slipped,
dropped the gun by the stranger’s feet.
He thought it was sexy, gripped her
waist, toothed her ear, Orson hates
Blue Hawaii.


Author: April Line Writing

Writing about whatever the f*ck I want.

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