Alexis Rotella

Meeting with Mobsters

The lawyer I work for speaks like a thug. I guess that’s why his clients are mostly Mafiosi types. Take Washington’s own, the infamous pin-striped Joe Nesline, for example. He enters the wait area, respectfully removes his fedora. Blue eyes sparkle along with a diamond solitaire ring. He swaggers into the boss’s office, flashes a smile my way. He’s handsome, alright, and down right charming.

Christmas party
a shot of whiskey
for the potted plant

On my way to the bus depot, I stop at the Hilton to deliver a large manila envelope. Mr. Nesline opens the door half way. His bejangled young playmate blushes as she covers her bare self with a white tiger skin rug, its head against her breasts.

Violin case
I pretend not to notice
the tommy gun