In Fifteen Minutes

The suicide bomber will strap on his vest…
This is for the glory of God,
For I am not worthy of earthly grace,
The infidel will feel his wrath through me,
And paradise waits on the other side –

Some jackass will piss off his bartender…
I never said you were a bastard,
The word was chiseler,
You cheap sonofabitch,
All right, that’s it –

The clock will tick…
Time slips forward and back,
Erasing itself from existence,
As you try to watch its flow,
This is as true as you’ll ever know –

Your world will get up-ended…
End and start all over again,
Each moment a chance for redemption,
Carrying with it an opportunity,
To set it to rights –

Taxis won’t stop…
Freezing rain beats into my skin,
Isn’t my money still green?
No matter, just another shovel into the grave,
My keys still fit all my locks.

End. Rev2. 9 February 2010, 8.58 pm, Brooklyn

© David Mark Speer