Dead Shamrocks
Coffeehouse soundtracks muse
Then pause while live performances tumble through the door
Uproar and brouhaha fight in brawl
Yet none of this is recognized
Like a worthless fighter with fists still raised
Though red mash covers the floor and flesh rots
Two pairs of eyes are shot at each other like bullets
Fierce and intense, hedging and deceiving
A sweat drop falls from a brow
Smashing the silence into shards
Smack! King of the Rocket ships
Risk, another metallic sweat bead falls off the chain
More shards, scarlet
A sip of coffee; stay alert joker!
A puff of your cigarette, not too deep now
Double take, he's bleeding now
Suck some blood while he is scrambling for composure
He recovered quickly
One? Fifteen?
Is he going to finish this in a wipe?
Trickery is a serpent
Indeed
Forty-five soldiers for my army
Almost to the five hundred I need to recruit
A masquerade now? Foolish
The antagonist is gauzy, transparent like a phantom
Sands are ticking
And vines are circling our chairs
Draw. Flick, flick.
He puffs his cigarette
And puffs again, deeply inhaling the smog
Followed by a gargle and rinse of coffee
Down go ten men
Chuckles. Whip and Swipe.
An extra soldier under my domain
Ten, jack, queen, king, fifteen of tilted squares
Thanks daft joker, no wonder you are not in this game
And another fifty-five soldiers
You're starting to lack
Silly enmity
And my clandestine battle plan is nearing the horizon
Black and whimsical is the wiser way
A rain of piercing arrows on your remains
More burgundy, more scarlet, but not from my fangs
From my gleaming deceit
I charmed you
And you blinked while I annihilated you with the evidence in your palms
It is done. Put your cigarette out and finish your coffee
Time to go home