YARDIC'S PAYBACK.

[dadio]

Yardic scans the street. Studies faces,
Looks in doorways, peers through cafe
Windows. Feels the gun inside his coat,
Pulls on the cigarette, smoke in the nose,
In the throat, in the lungs, in the head.
Hears voices, cars, bits of conversations,
Laughter, keeps on the move, eyes on the
Lookout. In for the kill, back of the head, one
Bullet, slug. Yardic stops and stares; people
Pass him, he exhales smoke. His mother
Was hanging washing when she was shot
Through the head, splatter sound, washing
Sprayed. He held her, last breath, no words,
Blood, red dribble. He looks up and down
The street. He spots again, sees the fingered
Man entering a door, door closing. Yardic
Follows, cigarette dumped, gun felt by hand,
The juices flowing, the eyes quickly searching.
He opens the door, stairs, darkness, voices,
A woman laughs, a child cries. He slowly climbs
The stairs, takes out the gun, fingers the trigger.
Mother’s last gaze at the sky, blue, summer clouds.
He remembers, opens a door, soft, slow, easing
Forward. The man by the window peering, looking
Down. Yardic steps forward, slow, soft, aims at
The back of the head, spot on, pulls on the trigger.
Thud. Window splatters with blood. A child laughs
Down the hall, a woman shouts; the man seems to
Fold like some snapped stringed puppet before his fall.