This Is a Test of the Emergency Broadcast System:
Had this been a true emergency
there would have been the sound of elephants
in the falling rubble and bowing girders.
There would have been blare and clash,
ruckus and mortuary work.
There would have been symphonic want and
multi-syllabic heartbreak, banner headlines
and bandwagons. Had this been a true emergency
you would have been directed to breathe
in the smoke from the lingering fires
of all the speeches that reference this day.
There would have been soldiers sent
and garrisons, oil and tents, rifles black
as snouts. Roughing up. Electrodes.
And hoods. There would have been a man
thrown from a helicopter. Genuflecting
and orchestras, and roundups, yes, and hoodlums
rumbling through the streets in vast, gassed-up militias
of the night. There would have been
the illusion of control. Fear of suitcases.
A ban on ball bearings. A new
architecture
based on Kevlar and concrete and
the absence of windows that will not
be missed. Had this been a true emergency
there would have been caskets and a run on flags.
Sniggering and something about a zoo.
Razor wire and tent camps. Sealed roads
that lead into tumbleweeds, the small clutch
at the roots as the wind takes them.
There would have been loneliness and wicked
nostalgia. In the mountains where
no one will be allowed there would have been
an accumulation of snow like an unending
series of predictions. There would have been marketing
and PR, slogans and product placements, but
there would have been no warning. Have a nice
day.
First
published in Diode (http://www.diodepoetry.com).