when the hands on the clock struck twenty-five hundred
a gun did appear in my hand

i watched as smoke wafted
through god’s wincing eye

its canopy cried out rufescent

a motley procession
of soporose passers-by

gave pause
to peer into the window

like daggers,
their fingers did pierce the still air
with hushed presumptions
gleaned most indolent

my insolence dared me to breathe
but the blood was too thin

and its truth
could not answer

now it is
that i was them

a shade ahead
without a horseman

3 Replies to “25:00”

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