Luneshale Pass lluvia

gardening’s a daily ritual; each night come new cabals of weeds to prune, bugs to crush, rocks to haul. and down there between rows of grubs and dirt, it’s difficult to think too hard.  

therapeutic. except they grow poison. 

he swings along the rocky trail that leads to the river. here the scent of the brothers is thick. a reminder. a testament. see here the cartel’s strength. smell their piss that reeks of testosterone and violence. beware. 

soto glances to niño behind him as he hikes a leg. it’s time to show these hillbillies that luneshale is cartel property now.