392 Readings | 2 Ratings

Pure

I called him mister.
His friends called him Sinister.
I regret asking him to be my matchmaker.
How to live forever,
he did discover,
although still bitter
from his failure
when one of his specimens from his hands shot fire
and Darwin called it tricks from the parlor.
After that, he decided to disappear
to the south that was polar
in order to stay clear
of the lineage of Professor Xavier,
who know of his meetings with Jack the Ripper.
He would give me an intense glare
and hold something rare
in an expensive glass beaker.
He would proclaim, “Together,
we can make the world pure,
get the picture?”
I responded with, “Whatever.”
With no time to reconsider,
in a craft that would hover
we would pluck a young scholar
before he could reach his car.
It wasn’t murder
but for the student it was a bother,
when after his capture,
we brought him back to Sinister’s lair,
gave him injections, and studied his behavior.
He asked what this was for
when I entered his chamber
and if it went against nature.
I would stare
and not give him my answer.
Posted 03/21/11
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