by Jeremy Simms

Created on: August 06, 2010

When Johnny first told me that I had the swagger of Mister Depp,

I scoffed: “an understatement.”

Look at him feigning a scowl.

I’m-right,he-isn’t.Checkmate.

He’s already skulking away to his little ordinary world

murmuring the perfunctory “hullo” to all of the

average people; the doormats, the victims,

the people that go crunch like an unexpected

eggshell in your breakfast.

I watch them crouch, their spine rising through skin like burial mounds,

as each one welcomes the crushing blow of my Reaping maul.

They’re all disposable,

maybe some-thing I’d use a few times to snare that girl with the

perfect face and great ass.

I’ve got them all knockin’ on my door –

the brick wall that keeps

ringworms from carving my skin.

When Johnny pulled a mirror, I savaged it with a bloody fist.

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