We Could be Heroes
After they murdered Kong,
the flyboys went out for beer.
“What a day,” Larry said
to no one in particular.
“Did you see that damned thing?
Big as a damned department store.”
“Can department stores
really be damned?” asked Reggie,
the twin brother
of Larry’s ex-wife, Maud.
He looked so much like Maud
that Larry sometimes felt
uncomfortable urges,
which he disguised with sadistic mocking.
“You’re missing the point,” said Bernard,
in his interrupting way.
“Which is?” countered Reggie.
“Which is that we killed
a big motherfucking ape
and we should already be famous
and draped with dames.”
There was general agreement,
with even Larry wishing
some broad would sass her way over
for a chance to fuck a Kong killer.
No such luck.
Across the sea, a gigantic,
radioactive dinosaur awoke
from a ten-thousand-year slumber.
None of them knew it yet,
but they would all be dead in a week.
“Yes, they can,” said Larry,
answering Reggie’s question
from what seemed an age past.
“Well, haunted anyway.
That’s just as good.”
