Salamander Man by Jimmy Pappas

He lived down the street from me. Flat boards all over his overgrown yard. He'd pick them up for the kids and show them what lived underneath. Salamanders. He called the front legs arms with hands and fingers. No one was allowed to touch them, just look. They stood silently, hypnotized by the beauty. He told them this would be as close as they'd ever get to God. Some parents didn't appreciate that. One father told him to stay away from his daughter. If he ever caught him near her again, he'd call the cops. A few days later, the police did come to his home. Complaints about a terrible odor coming from within. They smashed the door down. A crowd gathered. No one avoided stepping on the boards. 

Jimmy Pappas served during the Vietnam War as an English language instructor training South Vietnamese soldiers. Jimmy received his BA in English at Bridgewater State University and an MA in English literature from Rivier University. He is a retired teacher whose poems have been published in many journals, including Yellowchair Review, Rattle, Shot Glass Journal, Off the Coast, Boston Literary Magazine, and War, Literature and the Arts. He is a member of the Executive Board of the Poetry Society of NH. He was one of ten finalists in the 2017 Rattle Poetry Contest. 

Jimmy Pappas - The Rougarou

"The rougarou will get you," they told me as a child, 

but, unlike other girls, I was always comfortable in the wild.

On Τεσσαρακοστή, the fortieth day before Easter, I broke
my first Lent at the age of seven. In a master stroke

of evil, I snapped a rabbit's neck and drank its blood on Friday;
I always pushed to find helpless creatures that I might slay.

At the age of fourteen, I continued to follow my desires
by fooling with the boys and setting their hearts on fire,

but I only allowed them to go so far before telling them to stop
because I always wanted to make sure that I was the one on top.

In my third seven-year tribulation, I left home and school;
to be educated by such idiots, one would have to be a fool.

I built a shack in the woods and lived off the bayou,
always being sure to hang out leftovers for the rougarou.

At the age of twenty-one, I lured him into my home;
I saw his weakness: he no longer wanted to be alone.

Now that I am pregnant, it is time for me to make a stand
since no law exists that says the rougarou has to be a man. 

Jimmy Pappas received an MA in English Literature from Rivier University. Jimmy's poems have been published in such journals as Kentucky Review, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, Boston Literary Magazine, and War, Literature and the Arts. He is a recent first prize- winner of the Poetry Society of New Hampshire's National Contest.

Jimmy Pappas - Edgar

Edgar seduced her with a cask of Pinot Grigio. 
It was Mardi Gras time, so he hid behind his mask 
and the black cape of his roquelaure. He praised 

her costume and purchased her new ones, 
glimmering with shiny baubles. She followed him 
into the catacomb of his bedroom where the bones 

of his past conquests lay in a pile. She smashed 
the head off a flagon of Johnnie Walker 
with a gesture he did not understand. 

The next morning, she found herself chained
within a niche in the kitchen. Edgar walled her 
in there with non-stick pots and pans. 

Never complaining, she smiled out at him, 
even as the last opening was closed up. 
Thirty years later, he heard a scream. 

He tore down the wall and freed her, 
while an enormous black cat 
screeched from the top of her head.


*This poem uses images from two Poe stories: "The Cask of Amontillado" and "The Black Cat." 



Jimmy Pappas received an MA in English Literature from Rivier University. His poems have been published in such journals as Atticus Review, Kentucky Review, Poppy Road Review, and War, Literature and the Arts. He is a first prize winner of the Poetry Society of New Hampshire's National Contest.