Narrative Poem: How an extremist is made.

 

The sidewalk was cracked and uneven

 in front of my house.

Tree roots have buckled it.

Have heaved it up into drunken slabs.

So I called the Sidewalk Department.

They put me on hold for ten years.

During that time I got an MBA.

Went to work for the city.

And was put in charge of

the Sidewalk Department.

When I finally got through to me

I promised the situation would be

looked into.

I took down my name, address,

email, and telephone number.

Then promptly lost the information.

Luckily, I record all my phone calls 

at work.

I had my secretary type up

a transcript. In triplicate.

Then our department went paperless.

Everything was scanned. 

Then it was hacked 

and held for ransomware.

We had to pay off in bitcoin.

I was fired as head of

the Sidewalk Department

and had to take a job 

sweeping out sawdust

at a lumber mill in Vermont.

So I sold the house.

Now the crooked sidewalk in front

is somebody else's problem.

In Vermont I bought a sugar bush

to supplement my income.

As a small businessman

I think any vaccination mandate

is unconstitutional.

As is a sales tax. 

I'm ready to dump all

my maple syrup into 

the Walloomsac River in protest.

Who's with me?