Chad Prevost

Wanted: Branch-Davidian

He’d been to the End of the World

and it wasn’t all that. He wanted something more

than a couple of placid sheep, a small valley,

a few Swiss shops selling pocket knives and cheese.

It’s not that he really thought he’d find anything

Apocalyptic. It’s just that he wants wonders—

trees growing through rocks, a valley of bones, a lake of fire,

shepherds hunkered down, looking for the great North star.

He’d listened to false prophets before, but had managed

to keep working like a true disciple, predicted

the Day of the Lord on a hunch, called it divine,

flew to the surrounded compound and watched

through binoculars from a pleasant vantage.

He brought a whip to cleanse the temple of the tee shirt stand,

and kept an eye on the compound at night just before the fires,

as it stood, bathed in the all-knowing spotlight.