Stuyvesant’s Point

Stuyvesant’s Point

Three-pieces and pinstriped two-pieces

sat in a boardroom overlooking the tip of

Stuyvesant’s Point babbling bank-babble,


derivative-speak and how to further bundle

bags of mortgages and ship them overseas.

Done for the day, they flew to Phoenix


lined up the blue-jeans, tank-tops, flip-

flops and badly scuffed Redwing steel-

toes against the row of drowning condos


and two bedroom, one bath bungalows

in the desert and unloaded, rapid-fire, mag-

azine-loaded Glocks, and automatic assault-rifles


— stuff they bought at a gun show in Glendale.

For good measure, they bayoneted the floating

bodies so they would sink in the brown clay water,


the blood making the water just a tad darker

but dark enough to hide the bodies. The next

morning, after a shower for all and shave for


the guys, the three-pieces and two-pieces met

again in the boardroom, drank coffee and

thought about their bonuses and how the


money would pay for the really simple,

unassuming, six-thousand square foot, six

bedroom, six full-bath with an outdoor shower


next to the lap pool cottages with a short

walk to the ocean and beach bar in the Cayman’s

and Bermuda, nice places to go, if and when,


things turned ugly — not to mention the weather.

1 thought on “Stuyvesant’s Point

  1. So many “loaded” images – thanks … let the “little people” take it on the chin – they make good target practice, and then the quick retreat back to the 34th floor of an anonymous skyscraper in some big city far-removed from the crime scene. “Boys, we had fun, didn’t we?!”

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