Dear Congressman
Driving down the street
I witnessed a most horrific thing.
Not sure if you know about this,
Given the ails of our once great nation.
A small trifle, about some lost souls.
Pardon my shock
I believed the barbaric ritual
Of vigilante dissatisfaction
Fell out of style, like
Wife-beating and electroshock therapy.
Needlessly inflammatory attacks
Implying terrible things
At the entrance of businesses.
dedicated to the care of ladies
and all their parts.
(I’ll remind you, son
All women are ladies.)
The words they use
In the clever URLs
Or loosely rhymed phrases
MURDER
WRONG
KILLER
I don’t blame the words. Never do.
I’m concerned for these poor zealots
Standing in the cold
In the heat
In the wind
In the rain
Not in the snow.
Memphis shuts down when it snows.
As a registered voter, I wonder
Isn’t there something we can do?
Let’s do them a favor. Be humane.
Help end a pointless poster board vigil
Come up with some legalese way
To curb this stark blind spot
In the tentative American agreement
To agree to disagree.
Frankly
I’m appalled that we still ALLOW
This sort of bullying in the streets
of this once-beautiful city.
I, like King, have a dream that one day
Intolerant people will shut the fuck up
And mind their own damn business.
Judged on content of character
and found lacking
In public decency, at least.
I apologize.
My opinions don’t fit into a #.
As a life-long citizen, I’m concerned.
What if a child passing by sees these gangs
Of pamphlet-weilding soul sucking saviors
And accidentally believes them?
Don’t go in there Mommy. They are murderers.
It’s okay. I’m here for a yearly checkup with a doctor to make sure I stay healthy.
No murderers?
No dear.
Why did that sign say the doctors are murderers?
Because freedom of speech is legal.
So, I get to say whatever I want?
No, dear.
Why not?
You have a sense of empathy.
Oh, good.
