The Fbi Tears Through Here Madly
The FBI agent is standing directly
In front of me, tearing through the
TV stand drawer next to my recliner,
looking for the what I
Will never give up.
I try to see through him, because
He is standing between me and the
TV. But I refuse to move, and so
Does he.
He and his crew are doing a better
Job tearing up this place than
My children will when I am dead.
I can picture them bringing in dumpsters.
They will take turns throwing, maybe
Stopping once in a while
To look at a piece of
Jewelry.
The FBI agent smiles
At me, but I do not respond.
I pretend to be
An ordinary citizen,
An old lady,
A fool.
They keep searching,
Tearing up my house.
Occasionally they
Throw out an idle
Threat, making me smile.
Upon awaking I figure
I may be watching too
Much TV.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment