agent of karma (scared of the dark)
unfurls in slow motion
the room is so dark
the shadows pull in light
and eat it
I'm sitting in a burgundy leather chair
shiny and tight and re-upholstered like the face
of an ageing Hollywood star
There are things I could remember
but if I drift for just a second
I'll end up dead
The man across the other side
of the desk
long ago stopped his car and
threw compassion out of the trunk
(he travels much faster now)
It all started with a woman
a trivia to die for
a mere trifle
but I'm a man with dangerous appetites
He looks at me with lizard-skin eyes
his gun is always warm
his cock is always smoking
"So you did this thing" he says
his jowls jumping like two teenagers
under a blanket
–I did this thing.
–And now you come to beg for mercy?
–You don't know what mercy is.
–Your'e right, I'm a businessman.
–So we have some problem.
So I shit myself for four days
at least he knows I have balls
every stranger is my killer
maybe that's enough
And then one night in a Thai restaurant
I'm bored of waiting
sick of fear
in an alley-way
waiting, heart thumping
(the way not to be scared of the dark–
is to be the scariest thing in it)
I'm no devil, just an agent of karma.