Monday, December 8, 2008

The Patriot

The car, a dull persistent gray
Sidled to the curb, tacitly
Silent, sullen, hulking there
A menace to the morning birds
Whose songs were swallowed
In the quiet, misty air.

Four men slid out from the car
Suited also dull and gray
Relentless, they came after me
ID's high so I could see
Crew-cuts bobbed and then they weaved
Too late, I thought, for me to leave.

Not nice guys, these gangsters four
Knocked me down inside the door
Demanding I confess to deeds
That sprouted from subversion's seed
They said the government was my best friend
It's up to me when all this ends.

No slapping on the cuffs for me
Just some new technology
So while in a stupor on the floor
They tore my house apart and more
Took receipts going back for years
Computer, files and all my gear.

Hauling stuff out to the car
Neighbors watched, but from afar
The agents laughed triumphantly
High-fives were shared comradely
Before they went to break for lunch
They said they'd caught me on a hunch.

Never use your phone one crowed
We heard it all, we got you cold!
Just put a tap tap on your cell
And you, my friend, are going to hell
You're gonna have an accident
You can't critique the president!

He grinned, a toothy bureaucrat
Stolid, shaven, neck of fat
I asked to call my attorney
He laughed at that uproariously
You're subject to the Patriot Act
You got no rights and that's a fact!

He grabbed me, shoved me out the door
This was the end there was no more
But then I heard a cardinal sing
And a small, persistent ring
I leapt up on the bed to scream
Thank God that this was all a dream!

Or was it?

Copyright © 2006 & 2008 by Jacob Anson. All Rights Reserved