Omerta Tongues

I celebrate
with the lavender
of multiple hitman passports,
dance the Flight of the Bumblebee
in various yards of decommission.

Those landing strips
that come back from spy plane eye
seem so far away and arthritically
unimagined.

If there is a threat,
it will come from within.
Why do you think I have never kept
a diary?

Where everyone confesses
and nothing ages quite as well
as cheese.

The tongues of Omerta
cut out and sold at market.

By the meat monger
with the faulty scales.

And that noticeably bum shoulder
that would doom him
in a jailhouse lineup.

 

 

 

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Ryan Quinn Flanagan
Picture Nick Victor

 

 

Ryan Quinn Flanagan is a Canadian-born author who lives in Elliot Lake, Ontario, Canada with his wife and many bears that rifle through his garbage.  His work has been published both in print and online in such places as: The New York Quarterly, Red Fez, Evergreen Review, International Times, Himalaya Diary, Huffington Post, Blue Collar Review, GloMag, and The Oklahoma Review.  He enjoys listening to the blues and cruising down the TransCanada in his big blacked out truck.

 

 

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