Sunday, April 28, 2013

365 Poems in 365 Days: Sniper

I think I'm back in supervillain territory for number 54, although not an origin story this time. This is the kind of supervillain that turns up and everyone is like, oh yeah, him he stole the fabled diamond of despair, let loose a pack of wild hyenas on Rotterdam and blew up The Statue of Fraternity despite never having appeared on the page before.

They call me The Sniper
Or Death From Afar
Or Action-at-a-distance
(I don't expect you to get that one)

In Scotland I'm the Highland Hitman
After one of my more spectacular jobs.
I think all the good names are gone
And it doesn't matter anyway.

What matters is this:
That I kill from a long way away.
When they hear I'm in town
Certain types of people take precautions.

Because you know that I shoot
From half a mile or more
As easily as across the room
You set guards on rooftops and balconies

Never realising that the distant patrols
Are of no use if I'm
Right
Beside
You.

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