The RCMP

A proclaimed hunger for justice,
A silent thirst to kill.
I have the right;
Just give me a reason or two.
Both of those hands in your pockets will do.
You’ve got to be an addict and a thug.
I must assume that you’re a murderer, or at least on drugs.
I smile.
You’re too powerless to fight, too poor to sue.

The public eye scorns, the journalists cry,
“Why does another innocent person have to die!?”
We huff and we sigh.
Charade lazily,
“Our Thoughts and Prayers are with the family.”

Open tears.
Closed laughter.

This man again? What is he after!?
He’ll never learn his lesson,
I’ll fuckin’ learn him.
His drunken stumbles have stumbled on my nerves…

THE LAST FUCKING TIME!

He’ll learn his lesson.

I think a long walk home will sober him up,
Them Indians walk or ride stolen bikes,
When they’re not stealing cars,
Or stabbing each other in dykes or in bars

He’ll learn his lesson.

The Cold.
The Cold bites with the fury of one thousand suns
A thousand suns I wish for in the dark, the complete unknown.

Where am I?

Wet feet trudge towards nothing, towards a thought and a prayer
I cry.
The wind laughs at my misery and lashes my skin, my lips and my heart are sealed
I know that this it. I am condemned to die.

Dead feet trudge a dead man,
I am afraid.
Will I ever see my family again? My heart bleeds.
For I know I will not see them, they will only see me.

Dead feet trudge a dead man,
I fall.
Violent shaking, dead calmness of night.
Vivid visions of spectacular colours dance
Ancestors perform on this virgin stage of snow, ice and wind.
I watch the dance. No strength left to trudge.
The ice embraces me; I feel warmth for the last time.
I am afraid.
I don’t want to go,
But must be brave,
I accept my doom.
The RCMP
Chose this field as my tomb,
The ice as my grave.

 

 

CREATOR!

 

GOD!

Whoever is there,
Whoever can hear.
Why am I not dead yet?
Why have you forsaken
A Red Man
To turn Blue?

I repent,
I was once lost, but now am found
I was blind, but now I see
If only someone knew I was here
If only shards have ice have not blinded me
I only I wasn’t just an inconvenience in the eyes of the RCMP.

I am free.

 

“He learnt his lesson”,
Say the Children of God.
“He got what he deserved”,
Say the Children of God.

“That’s what happens when you get drunk”,
Say the Children of God.

“It was all his fault, really”,
Say the Children of God.

“His peaceful death was a blessing; he was saved from being lost. He was a drunk and a sinner, doomed for the flames of Hell. Now he’s with Jesus, Death saved him from himself.”
Say the Children of God.

 

Whatever happened to that ol’ drunk?
The one that we taught?
How come he is not here to thank us?
That’s just like them.

So entitled,

So victimized.
Just get over it, already. It’s been a long time now
since you were left childless, tongue-less and sodomized.

We are here to make you feel safe,
We are here to turn the Red to Pink,
We are here with a secret lust for blood,
We are here to bury language in the mud,
We are here to rape life, destroy peace,
We are here to keep The Problem policed,
We are here dutifully,
We are the RCMP.

Published by

bendcharles

A schemer and a dreamer. I'm a #Métis author located in Saskatchewan who writes short stories, poetry, book reviews, and jokes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s