And his follower, too


So I stepped by
and scarcely had I drawn out
my pocket knife
(for to carve a simple glyph
for to find my way again)
than did a Disciple come forth
with black cloths waving
and a smile on
and a great, firey sword
and when he spake,
it was of heresies and
how-dare-Is and
when he hefted his blade aloft
it was slow and unwieldly
and with naught but a pocket knife
I struck with speed,
and the disciple –
black cloths and all –
fell face down and expired,
for even the biggest
firey sword has no business
being hefted
by an idiot

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s