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How I Quit Jersey for Juliapa
It’s tattooed lightly on my upper arm
“I love my mom, and she loves me”, it reads.
A squad from Space Force dragged me in the weeds:
“We’ve nailed you, boy. You’ll do no further harm.”
I woke in Guatemala, feeling calm:
I knew that an American who pleads
such stuff as ‘habeas corpus’ oft succeeds,
and sought me out a lawyer, without qualm.
But asking for the consul caused alarm!
They deemed it, ‘most nefarious of deeds’.
The embassy said, “Out of all the breeds
of poison snakes, you lib’rals take the palm!”
“That mother-love thing brings no saving balm,
applying pressure to unanswered needs:
we’ve got your measure – tie-dye shirt and beads!
The type that once protested Vietnam!”
“You’re lucky that you didn’t buy the farm,
since MAGA’s down on surreptitious creeds.
Whoever hurts the orange leader, bleeds.
It’s anti-presidential, that there psalm.”
Copyright ©
Michael Coy
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