Pure Fantasy
Pure Fantasy
Authors disclaimer this is the only poem that eye must disavow all attempts of
actual emergence no murder will ever be done...
The Central tower has a clock the people gather in the better spots at any given
time close to lunch the hits a go. There must be Four Thousand of them between
us and the road. We need to kill them all to ease the overcrowding problem. Web
attachments on. Make nice clean kills on the girls kill the boys slow and hard.
There is nine of us and when we are done they will kill us all. They have no
choice they will send someone. The retired air force colonel say it col o nell we
say it kernel practice it the European way he left he is not the threat the real
problem that we have is the old poet he can stop us. The one they call the
CharlaX. He is unafraid of men. Eye heard the screams of the wounded boys first
and the girls were never heard for they died fast. Eye sprinted out into the fray
looking this way and that. Eye grabbed the first man from behind and twisted his
head around to let him look at me the man who killed him then eye took his
Tommy gun and let it chatter at the next three men bunched up and lucky for the
me eye hit them with all three bullits in the gun the bullits meant for my poor
children on the mall. Eye won that round and took the gun from just one man and
the clips needed from the web attachments off the rest of them and went to look
for more and there were four. Eye pulled the bolt back on the Tommy and let
them have it full bore holding the barrel down to spray them fully not giving them
time to shoot at me and there is where they died. That left one the leader of this
dearth of circumstance. He tried to get me fast and he let up on his approach too
quickly missing me the needed inches in his haste to get it done. Eye did not
hesitate for in a fight it must be moments added to the microseconds needed to
complete a fight to get it on. Eye let the barrel swivel up cutting him so cleanly
and so neatly half into he dropped nothing left of feeling in a man beyond his
pain. The children who were left will never knoe how much eye loved them for eye
turned the Tommy up and cut it swiftly to my brain. The tenth man gone.
Pure Fantasy
Copyright © Charles Hice | Year Posted 2007
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