SHE GUESSED THEY CALLED IT JUSTICE
by Gary Cadwallader

She named her first born Latex and lived above the Hadassah Swap Shop. Nights she prowled the streets with the ugliest male prostitute on Main Street. She said, "Whew, ug-a-lee!"

You wouldn't look twice at this horrible man except he wore a black leather jumpsuit on the hottest days and carried a pure white cat upon his shoulder. His scrubby black beard looked like a disease.

She called her second child Nosmo from the "No Smoking" sign at the free clinic.

She killed Mr. Ugly when he started carrying her child, Latex, at night instead of the white cat. He'd walk for blocks in the dark toting her baby back and forth. It weren't right.

The police were there when Cyphilis was born. They stood frozen faced and asked all kinda questions until she screamed, "Okay! It was me that killed him. I shot his stupid ass. He deserved it."

"Where'd you hide the gun, Ma'am?" they asked.

"Didn't hide it," she said. "Look inside his butt."

The policemen passed papers back and forth, nodding to each other. They asked no more questions, and they left her alone. She guessed they called it justice.

© Gary Cadwallader 2004

on to page 4   

back to the front page