Forsaken Messiahs


The Cop:
Angry,
Hand resting on butt of pistol.
Anticipation in murder.
Hovering.Law enforcing.
Don’t come any closer!
The man:
Dirty,
Bearded,
Armed with a knife,
Crying:
They’re after me. Please help.
I said don’t come any closer.
Put the knife down.
Put your hands up and face the wall.
They’re trying to kill me!
The Man:
Imploring,
Falling to knees,
Hands out stretched,
Forehead bleeding:
Little rivers of blood, blinding, caressing cheek bones.
I’m supposed to be the light behind the eyes!
Step back and drop your weapon!
The Cop:
Fingers twitching,
Blood racing,
Negotiator through force.
You don’t understand. They want me to die.
My death is to end all deaths.
But I don’t want to die.
Tears.
Anger.
Disobedience.
Against the wall. Don’t make me use force.
Authority un-holstered.
I can’t die. Not yet. Not for this.
They want to sacrifice me again.
They say we need to be saved.
Once more.
I don’t want to die.
Lunging.
Falling on the ground.
A defensive step back.
Authority aimed.
Authority fired.
The man bleeds.
The Cop:
I need an ambulance.
Radio squawk.
Help on the way.
Don’t let me die.
I am free from sin.
I should not be punished.
Not for this.
My death will be meaningless.
Bitterness.
For them…

A white van.
The Doctor.
Thank you, officer,
Force was needed, I assume.
I couldn’t foresee it any other way.
The Cop:
Vomiting.
Dizzy.
Gun powder.
I didn’t want to.
He came at me.
The Doctor:
Provoked, I’m sure.
He didn’t understand his role.
The Man:
Taken into van.
Two more gun shots.
Shaken Cop.
Smiling Doctor.
We breed them, you know.
The world should never be without a stock pile of saviors.
You never know when man will fuck up.
Authority shoulder squeezed in brotherly, heterosexual affection.
They’re the real nuclear war.
A Buddha bomb of infinite forgiving.
Medical cleanliness.
Manicured nails.
Modern Halo.

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About litbandit

El Bandito Bibliotequa...or something.
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