The Unsociable Soldier

My mouth can’t do an impression,
my face won’t make an expression,
and shyness ensures
I will not arouse
suspicion.


Wearing beta blocker body armour
I launch an attack
on the surprised socialites;
I’ve never seen so many pretty petty people
in a state of utter panic.


I’m a timid trooper all right
taking out
all intended
trembling targets
in my line of sight…


Mostly women are dead—
their beautiful bodies
riddled with the bullets
of a rapid-fire speech.


Averting my gaze
I reload on reuptake inhibitors;
you can run but you can’t hide
from this hypervigilant
anti-hero.


The sole survivor, a young woman, engages me;
holding a conversation is like holding my
beer
breath
bladder;
she tries to escape
stumbles over
words of warning.


Now I’m a nervous agent
releasing a noxious
anxious
gas
into the atmosphere—
letting off some low self-esteem.


The young woman stops conversing
starts convulsing
in a rather tasteless manner;
her meaningless death
makes me all the more self-conscious.


There are no women left in no-man’s-land
so I return to base
blushing
but ever so brave.

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