January Poems #26: The Democrat

As I've noted before, one can see and hear the most fascinating things on the buses and trains of the CTA. There really was a guy like this on the Chicago Avenue bus one afternoon, along with an Elvis impersonator on his way to a gig. Most of the quotation are made up--the last one, though, is direct from the man's mouth.

He preaches to mothers too young
to look so old dragging children
and wedding bands, holding court
in the arc of a palm, and to
the drunk young man staring
at the Elvis impersonator further
up the bus, jumpsuit swinging
back and forth on the handrail,
buttons of concert photos pinned
to his second-hand royal heart.
"I always had respect for the King,"
he says, "even if Nixon did
make him an honorary narc.
Gave his access to all them drugs
--uppers, downers, sidewinders. A
Republican conspiracy to demoralize
the Common Man. Did the same to
JFK when they hired the Mob to
hit him like they did in Dallas."
He turns just once from his pupil
as they cross the Chicago Avenue
Bridge to look at Goose Island.
He doesn't recall ever seeing any
geese, any industry ever since
the Republican insurgence drove all
the life away, since the city fathers
considered razing the factories and
building an amusement park there,
Disneyland North, where they'd dress
the rodents up warm and feed all
the mutations cotton candy and cheddar.
The Democrat turns back, sets aside
his placards (Where are we going?
THINK about it!) which have drilled
his palms with splinters and truths
and balls his fists into tight
crucifixions for the benefit of
the pupil. "Don't listen to anybody.
Don't. Not even yourself.
'Cause if you'll listen to yourself,
you'll listen to just about anybody.
That's what they teach you
in Military Intelligence."