Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Short Day

The coat was heavy
Dragging down on my shoulders as I walked
Knee length
Black
Leather
Extra straps and pockets
Added to hold
All I needed
For this short day

Grey skies
Cool breeze
Not quite cold
A fine day for exercise
An excellent day to die

Nearly ten AM
Town is picking up
Students, mothers, pensioners
Doing whatever they do
So I head to the indoor market
Time to shed some weight

Amazing what you can learn
If you look hard enough
Long enough
Smoke grenades and nail bombs
Simple stuff from household goods
As I said
An excellent day to die

As I walk round the market
I place a smoker and nail
In bins as I pass
Primitive timers give me time to reach the exit
There I wait a final few moments
For chaos to begin
A deafening roar
Brings a brief smile
Smoke starts to billow
Screams and groans

A middle-aged man staggers
Coughing and spluttering
And out comes a well-honed machete
Wet work, close and personal
I take him across tear-streaked face
Messy
Reaching in my coat
I fish out home made shuriken
Turn and throw randomly
Into the gathering crowd

They scatter
Screaming
The air fills with panicked voices
And a distant faint wail of authority
Not a bad response time
Incessant babble bores me
So out comes first
My walkman
Time to live a little
Before the end
Then my browning 9mm
Quickly casting my last few missiles
I head into the smoke filled market
Not far
Just enough

Authority arrives
Firemen
I put a round in the shin
Of the first through
And see his colleagues drag him away
They’ll stay out of it for now

It shouldn’t be long now
Boys in blue
Gun in hand
Itching to pull
That rarely used trigger

If I’d been serious
I shudder to think of what could be done
Within the time it’s taking
On a whim I set fire
To a fabric traders stock
And finish off a quietly bleeding teen
With my boot knife across their throat
Then fire a random shot out the door
To keep ‘em on their toes

At last
They’re here
As sunlight breaks through overcast skies
Mixes with smoke
And a soft breeze swirls
It round
In elegant curls and spirals
It’s an excellent day to die
The coat is not so heavy
I wonder how many
I can take

8 comments:

BSJ-rom said...

What are you thinking?

Are you thinking?

The power is amazing... disturbing.

It's true though - on a whim. The sad irony is that those with the best intentions still manage to kill us.

miss magic said...

short day, long poem. :D

the coat may not be so heavy but what about his heart? Doesn't he have a conscience??

Inconsequential said...

BSJ - I don't think the person in this piece has anyones best intentions in mind...

Etain - this version is toned down, originally they hacked a few more people, and shot many more, had a few more bombs...

MM - sociopath - no morals - no conscience...

BSJ-rom said...

Is it robot... android. All human but no humanity?

Inconsequential said...

hadn't meant it to be Android or anything, as implied by the brief smile, they're all human, just a bit fucked up in the head, android kinda heads off into SF... not quite headed that way yet, maybe in the future...

:)

Russell CJ Duffy said...

friggin' genius on your part. brings to mind v for vendetta (the comic NOT the stupid film).
yes, the IRA, the wacky fundamentalist muslims. all who, for whatever false reason, disregard life in such eay fashion.
brilliant mate.

BSJ-rom said...

The androidisation of humanity...

There would have been a bigger uproar if you had written about slashing the throat of a cat.

Save the trees...
...Kill the people.

Inconsequential said...

lol bsj,
they didn't seem to mind my piece about bashing the cats head on curb and skinning it for a glove lining :)

maybe bloggers are a little more open to ideas...

cj has it close, but without a valid reason, no cause or jihad etc...

just for fun
or just for bordem
either will do

the only thing they do is at least set the scene to pick on an equal as such, ie. the armed police...