Slipping Between the Crowds

Slipping Between the Crowds

By: James Dubeau

Slipping between the crowds

As the one

That does not

Belong

My ticket to this

High society affair

Is a lie

A forgery

A fake

Just enough

To get me through

The security

And double doors

To walk amongst

The rich

The famous

The powerful

Weaving through the crowds

With wine in my hand

Overhearing conversations

My ears should not hear

Gathering intel

On the enemies

Which I shall soon

Face

Unblinking Black Eye

Unblinking Black Eye

By: James Dubeau

The unblinking black eye watched me.

I thought about the size of the holes

It would put into me.

I thought about the quick death

He could grant me.

I thought about the death he brought

Upon my beloved.

I thought about the weight

Of my revolver at my side.

I thought about the days

I spent as a young man

Practicing quick draws in the mirror.

I thought about the aches

In my aging hands.

I thought about the slowness of my revolver

Which had not been fired

In many years before this day.

Tired

Tired
By: James Dubeau

Tired
Eyes droop
Under heavy glasses
The sun has risen
But the soul has not
Heavy body
Cannot be moved
From the restful bed
Nevertheless
Work must be done
Worlds must be created
Before the sun has set
Again

First Person World

First Person World
By: James Dubeau

Living in a
First person world
Glasses and beer
Detach my mind
From reality
Framing it all off
Putting a filter
On what I see
Making it all
Feel unreal
Only the lack
Of a health bar
And shields
Remind me
That I am not
Locked away
In some VR cabinet
Playing some
First person shooter
Video game