Daily Archives: January 22, 2009

The Good Neighbour

Bang!  There he goes again, repeatedly taking aim
Until he hits whatever it is he’s been missing.
Sure of eye even when he falters.
He smiles and waves as we shudder.

It has been a while since we let him
Silence our worries with his hobby.

Our neighbourhood has grown used to this
Night and day, good or bad weather.
Everyone hides a fear of the gun collector.

On days when he fancies something new
From one of us, we grow restless.

Maybe, as we whisper
Among ourselves, we are just imagining it.
No, he’s not really interested in this thing of mine,
You think?  He already has his own, from someone else.

Extra care must be taken that he doesn’t feel
Violated by our talk in our own homes.
It is undeclared but true, his claim
Lies beyond his yard.
Soon enough we’ll know who’s next.

-o-

This poem was written in September 2008.  It is an acrostic.

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Going Retro 1: The Victorious Army of Gobbledygooks Penetrates the City

“Why do they hate us?  We’re setting them free!”
– a foot soldier

They were expecting
sweaty hugs and kisses
from dark veiled women
and their adoring children.

Ears cocked, they anticipated the struggle
of the local band in playing
their beloved anthem,
as if it were not foreign.

But only hollow,
sporadic shouting of men
who gathered from nowhere
welcomed the forces.

The army was laden
with a quick,
calculated victory,
craving for popular jubilation.

Instead, this caricature of a show
put on by these nowhere men.
Stick figures in the desert sun,
sure of only one thing:

Tear down the giant statue
designed originally
by a previous generation
of gobbledygooks.

This show had been triangulated
for the world to see
moment by breathless moment
on their most trusted TV.

And then what?  An awkward silence
as the statue grates to a stop,
refusing to crash down.  A monologue broken
by coughing in the background, off-camera.

Days later when the local population
finally came out with their voices raised,
the victorious gobbledygooks felt
strangely welcome, unable to decipher

Joy and ecstasy from utter hatred.
It is only now with proper translation
years later that we have
a clear understanding of gang rape.

-o-

This is largely a response to an amazing documentary called Control Room. I highly recommend everyone to watch it.

I owe a lot of my writing to this fantastic public figure.  He will be missed and his legacy will continue to haunt us for years to come.