The Voice
The unmistakable sound
of a bear crashing through undergrowth.
“You are a Shawnee brave,” a voice says
out of my dark space.
“No I'm not,” I reply panicking
“I am old and fat!”
“Take up your tomahawk
be a man, die well.” The voice urges.
I need to pee,
it is half-past three in the morning
briefly I know this
- but I also know how to run.
I run,
throwing my weapons away
as the bear charges.
“I am embarrassed and ashamed for you.”
“Fork off.” I gasp, dodging between trees,
then blunder into the bathroom,
a full bladder still yelling at me.
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