Da sieht man mal wieder, wie das ist, wenn die unsichtbare Hand des Marktes nicht lenkend eingreifen und die Dinge richten kann, die im Argen liegen.
Meine lyrischen Beiträge hier sind bisher immer auf ein sehr verhaltenes Echo gestoßen, um nicht zu sagen, keiner wollte sowas. Aber weil mir das herzlich egal sein kann, gibt es heute wieder einen, und er ist sogar noch viel länger als alles, was hier jemals von der überwältigenden Mehrzahl der Leser verschmäht wurde, und zu allem Übel gibt es das Ganze auf Wunsch auch von mir gelesen. Freut euch auf
Another day here at my desk,
another call for me.
another day in this grotesque
office I can’t flee.
A guy has some kind of complaint,
I tell him a way out.
I show remarkable restraint
when he starts to shout.
I calm him down and make a joke,
And he laughs along.
He calls me an amusing bloke,
I don’t tell him he’s wrong.
Stan has been standing by my side,
with another stupid question,
waiting impatiently as I tried
to suppress my aggression.
I hate this job, I hate this guy,
hate everything I see.
I hate this place, there’s none where I
would not rather be.
But most of all I hate my boss,
His eyes the colour of a bruise.
Glossy hair like chocolate sauce,
My car was cheaper than his shoes.
„Thank you, Zed, I owe you one!“
The guy puts down his phone.
I do the same and look at Stan,
his issue yet unkown.
“What can I do you for?” I ask,
and while I hear him talk
I see that, though in light he’s basked,
he has no shadow, and I gawk.
“I wondered whether you would like
to join us for a drink.”
“Us who?” I ask. “Just me and Mike.”
“Give me some time to think.”
I stare upon the woolly floor,
immaculate beneath his soles,
I need to be completely sure
Before I shoot him full of holes.
I glance into my monitor,
which is now black and dark,
and though still just an amateur,
I’m sure I have my mark.
Neither shadow nor reflection
can be seen of Stan,
and despite his misdirection,
I know he’s not a man.
Vampires, as I’m sure you’ve heard,
are real and everywhere.
They’re powerful but can be hurt,
if you take special care.
Killing Vampires is an art,
they are quite hard to get.
You have to hit them in their heart
If you really want them dead.
Forget your garlic, crosses, stakes,
that stuff is without use.
Buy a big gun, make no mistakes,
or you are bound to lose.
Stan is losing patience fast,
so I get on my feet.
I have found my chance at last,
my fist vampire. Neat!
I get up and get my gun,
He just stares at me, surprised.
Then I know that I have won
before he’s even realized
that I am not another sheep
for him to slaughter and devour.
Because I am packing heat
and he will die within the hour.
I shoot him, and he just says: “Ow!”
and falls. My heart aflutter,
I can see his shadow now.
“Well. Fancy that”, I mutter.
He fell, but did not fall to dust.
I am quite disappointed
as I watch with faint disgust
his shirt, with blood anointed.
“Well, who is next?” I shout out loud,
as Mike enters the room.
He is a vampire, too, no doubt,
and my gun his doom.
The bullet takes him in the chest,
just like his undead friend.
I watch with detached interest,
as he comes to an end.
When I look up, there’s Diane Bumbles,
my supervisor, mouth agape.
“Zed – what – why- whaa?” she mumbles.
looking like a stupid ape.
“What happened?” she asks, sounding hoarse.
I always thought her kind of pretty.
I have to shoot her, too, of course,
although it is a pity.
The saddest thing I ever saw,
after my bullet struck her,
she sinks sobbing to the floor,
I almost want to hug her.
She looks so sad and disenchanted,
as always when she looked at me.
Her eyes are still wide open, haunted,
and now they will forever be.
I laugh, though there is nothing funny,
but I feel weirdly free.
Her blood flows thick, like buckwheat honey.
Vampire’s blood, you see?
Some time, I just watch the pool spread,
then hear advancing steps.
To where Diane quietly bled,
approach two sales reps.
Now they are vampires for sure.
I needn’t even check.
One of them is Justine, the whore,
the other Quentin Beck.
I had ten bullets in my gun,
now seven still remain.
I jump out and I scream: “Come on!”
and blow out Quentin’s brain.
Justine screams and cries and begs,
and asks me for compassion.
I take a glance at her long legs,
stockings of latest fashion.
I look at her, and then I smile,
gun turned sideways now.
And in executioner style,
I kill the stupid sow.
Now Edgar Hyrse arrives, the boss.
He stares at all the dead,
then looks at me, he’s at a loss.
“Pray what happened, Zed?”
“I found you out!” I cry at him,
and lift the gun to shoot
Ere he tears me limb from limb,
The monster in its suit.
“Zed, have you lost your mind?” he asks,
showing me his palms,
showing the kindest of his masks,
to aggravate my qualms.
Seems like he could not hurt a fly,
all open and sincere
In his expensive suit and tie,
fighting back a tear.
Looks like mourns for those I killed
Like a human being.
Like he abhors the blood I spilled,
and grieves at what he’s seeing.
But I am not fooled; not I!
They’re monsters all, I know!
Aiming at his heart, I cry:
“Die now, carrion crow!”
I see the bullet hit his chest,
and I know: That’s it.
I got them all, I am the best.
Every round a hit.
But what is that? Hyrse merely sneers.
Did I miss a shot?
Something went wrong, as it appears.
No matter, I’ve still got
Three rounds. Enough to reach my goal.
I shoot another one.
Again, I see it tear a hole.
Again, he still comes on.
“It’s not that easy”, he declares,
his eyes the colour of a bruise.
He grabs me, hands strong as a bears’,
Blood on his expensive shoes.
“Real monsters die real hard.
Pick whom you try to kill.
Fighting vampires is an art
far beyond your skill.”
I look into his cold, dead face,
he is pale as a ghost.
Behind his eyes a vast, dark space.
Fuck me, I think. I’m toast.