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In the forest of his life

he lives his private fantasy

sees malignant animals

lurking everywhere

and when he falls

into his restless cave

he keeps a handgun

under the blanket


Some nights

he wakens horrified

at some imagined sound

shoots at shadows

hears malignancies

hiding between words


He fantasizes

he’s a character in a novel

in busy streets

he stalks celebrities

between the trees

and stench of other animals

and when he catches one


He shoots him

four or five times

in the back and in the head

then sits on paving stones

quietly opens his book

catches a few children

before they fall

off the unprotected world


There are those among us

who applaud him

hang his portrait in their caves

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© Johnmichael Simon



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