JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

He’s a dark shadow of himself

outlined on a flickering screen

sombrero brim, profiled cigar

amorphous torso caped from neck down

in sinister anonymity

 

He’s a spy, an assassin

a symbol of higher corruptions

pitted against each other

in eternal struggle

one soundless click of his camera

thud of bullet unleashed

will change the world forever

 

Sometimes he appears in his own movies

silver bullet aimed against evil and injustice

on nights of horror when real-time television

rapes our wildest dreams, he’s there waiting

in the corner, gun in hand, one finger

of our mind aimed at the bloody screen

then, thud, the silver bullet collapsing all

into one disappearing spot of light