Fire Extinguisher Man no5 extract by JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX
Fire Extinguisher Man met the man's wife at her place of work. He heard young women laughing. A carefree sound that held lots of promise. The lady in question was bending down; all her thighs were visible. As were here butt and red panties. She wasn't bothered about her seductive display.
That must be the man's wife, 'Wife'. What an odd thing to call her. She looks awesome though. Look at her legs, perfect. Fire Extinguisher Man watched Wife through the glass window. Liking what he saw, he entered the bank. It was near closing time and he was the only 'customer'. It wasn't cash he was interested in. It was the sexy young lady that he never took his eyes off.
"Hi there. May I help you," greeted Wife. She stood up and lifted up part of her dress with one hand. One leg was fully visible, right up to the front of her red panties. Her pubic hairs were visible.
"Yes, I think you can. I'm looking for the lady who works here called 'Wife'. Are you her?" The gigolo's eyes took in the sexy sight. He made sure she saw where his eyes were looking.
The girl nodded. "Yes, I'm Wife."
"Good to hear. Nothing like meeting the wrong woman. It can lead to, shall we say, complications."
"I'm her. Yes, things need doing correctly. How may I help you?"
"Well my dear Wife, your husband sent me. I'm here to have some fun with you."
"Really? We better get on with it then, hadn't we?
"I like the sound of that."
"Follow me," Wife said, leading the way to the back of the bank. By now the security shutters were down and doors locked. Fire Extinguisher Man was stuck here whether he liked it or not.
"Wow, is this the safe?"
"Yes it is. Twelve inch hardened steel with time delay locks and half a dozen other security features. Including CCTV. We'll do our fun here."
"Sounds impressive but only twelve inches? I can do better than that. Check this out." Fire Extinguisher Man unzipped his chino trousers and withdrew his advantage over other men.
"Fucking hell!"
Thursday, 9 April 2015
GLITTERING LIKE STARS
GLITTERING
LIKE STARS
I see the stars shining in the sky like so many diamonds
cast upon black velvet;
they twinkle like blinking eyes catching the light on a
warm spring evening.
Aren’t they a sight to behold? So close you can touch
them but a hundred lifetimes away.
I sometimes wonder, are we alone or is there a God up
there amongst the aliens?
Now the dawn appears, the sun chasing away the stars,
bright golden colours cascading across the heavens.
Day has arrived and stars have no place now the sun
banishes them to their darkness.
Tuesday, 7 April 2015
Monday, 6 April 2015
hot day
Hot Day
It
was a hot day in the Nevada desert.
Slowly
in the distance, a dot trailing smoke came closer.
Minutes
passed.
Above
a faint jet engine sounded, no more than a whisper.
The
sun was at its highest, burning mercilessly down.
An
omen of coming events?
The
dot was now a vehicle, an old yellow school bus.
Bars
covered the windows.
Hands
poked out of the gaps, as if asking for solace.
Rumbling
along at twenty miles per hour, the bus eventually stopped.
Level
ground arced out miles around it, leaving the vehicle naked.
Rusty
hinges creaked and the front and rear doors slowly opened.
Nothing
happened for a few seconds.
Then
three dozen hardened criminals sensed freedom and left in a riot of arms and
legs.
Some
ran almost falling, others staggered unable to grasp that they were ‘free.’
Up
above the jet engine was louder now, diving down upon its target.
With
sudden ferocity the F-20 Tigershark opened fire with twin 20MM cannons.
TAT
- ATAT - TATA - TAT! roared the guns.
Shells
kicked up sand, bounced off rocks and exploded across the bus.
In
a hiss one tyre burst, the bus leaned drunkenly over.
A
small fire started inside.
Several
men were sprawled on the ground, red blood soaking in.
Other
prisoners now knew what was happening:
liquidation.
They
ran for their lives as the jet curved round to re-attack.
It
dropped a cluster bomb at a group of fifteen prisoners.
POP
- POP - POP - POP! went the small bomblets when the case opened.
Most
were killed outright, sliced and diced by anti personnel bombs.
One
or two had arms and legs blown off, they moaned for their mothers.
A
small hill gave cover for four men.
Rolling
down range, the fighter came in.
The
pilot selected rockets.
WHOOSH
- WHOOSH - WHOOSH WHOOSH! screamed the
80MM explosive rockets.
Like
the cluster bomb, they were area weapons and the complete hill was blanketed.
Nothing
survived the wicked explosions except drifting smoke.
Another
gun run hit three men running over the open desert, cutting them down.
Two
more men stood their ground and told the F-20 pilot to fuck off.
The
pilot saw their raised fingers.
His
remaining cluster bomb soon sorted them out.
Now
it was time for his ‘dumb’ bombs.
Three
tumbled free, aimed by computer, and hit the yellow bus.
BOOM
- BOOM - BOOM! spoke the 750lb bombs.
A
cacophony of sound and violence tore the smouldering machine apart.
Six
men who had doubled back and hid inside or under it were blown to Hell.
With
only a few cannon shells left of air to ground ordnance, the pilot spotted a
lone figure.
A
dive, a burst, a kill and it was over. Too easy!
Climbing
back to altitude, the Tighershark went in search of his only airborne target -
a
Boeing 747 full of 500 murderers.
Like
the old school bus, it was remotely controlled with no crew.
Two
Sidewinder missiles would take care of this beast and his underwing drop tanks
were still half full.
Happily
the merc pilot grinned. This line of work was fun and paid well.
And
it got rid of scum.
Saturday, 4 April 2015
Friday, 3 April 2015
Ultima Thule by Jimmy Boom Semtex
OUT NOW!
Ultima Thule by Jimmy Boom Semtex
© copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2015 all rights reserved.
Only a single poem maybe reproduced for reviewing purposes. In any article list Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.
ISBN: 978-1-326-14210-0
Only a single poem maybe reproduced for reviewing purposes. In any article list Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.
ISBN: 978-1-326-14210-0
Dry Dry Dry
There's a beer river up at San Miguel. We went up there to the brown river. A little wooden boat carried our souls. Not to safety. We all fell into the beer river! I was floundering so bad. The three others couldn't save me; nor me them. Beer engulfed us. It was each to their own. Save your skin. Not before drinking your fill. The others preferred San Mig Lite. I had Red Horse. I was called Lucky as I spied a bottle of Happy Horse. I swear the horse was smiling. We drank the San Miguel river fucking dry dry dry. I burped when I was done. Drank my fill. As had the rest. I staggered shoreward. Leaving our upturned boat on river bed. If you read this, tell them we drank the San Mig river dry dry dry. And it don't exist no more. Except in myth and legend. So I'll spare you the Antipolo Jeepney ride there. Don't go looking for it. We drank the San Mig river dry dry dry.
There's a beer river up at San Miguel. We went up there to the brown river. A little wooden boat carried our souls. Not to safety. We all fell into the beer river! I was floundering so bad. The three others couldn't save me; nor me them. Beer engulfed us. It was each to their own. Save your skin. Not before drinking your fill. The others preferred San Mig Lite. I had Red Horse. I was called Lucky as I spied a bottle of Happy Horse. I swear the horse was smiling. We drank the San Miguel river fucking dry dry dry. I burped when I was done. Drank my fill. As had the rest. I staggered shoreward. Leaving our upturned boat on river bed. If you read this, tell them we drank the San Mig river dry dry dry. And it don't exist no more. Except in myth and legend. So I'll spare you the Antipolo Jeepney ride there. Don't go looking for it. We drank the San Mig river dry dry dry.
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