Remembrance Day by Robert Beveridge

In this world we all have silver eyes

hunched in an alley at night in a dark
overcoat and a floppy hat bottle
of cheap liquor next to me like
a prayer candle that went out hours ago

the beginning of a scene that has played
itself out a thousand times before
all we need to do is wait for the lights/
camera/action/enter stage left the guy

with the blue shirt and the badge

and his hand grabs my shoulder and my
knife goes into his gut and I stand up
and whisper in his ear “regards from my
brother” and once I finish drawing the T
on his body it’s only a short jaunt
to the river to wash off and send the clothes
on their way to the ocean


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