Cliff Drive

It was a right
on Cliff Drive, not right on
onto the precipice
that divides u.s. from free
into a show me your I.D.
pull down your pants

Your-in-a-nation taken down the dark alley
that rodeos you into a corral
lassoes you into a collar that forces you to …
drive thru-

And talk to the Jack Boot
not I to I, it’s more of an aye, aye, surmise
a search that destroys u.s., a Trojan Horse
that enters our streets
with red, white, and blue lights flashing
with sirens wailing and advertisements blazing
we on TV knees
bow down so they can saddle us, then straddle us
putting a bit, into our mouth

They turn u.s. right on Cliff Drive
too late to read the anarchist graffiti
“No War”
for the “war” has come home

Where we used to stand we now fall
in line
the new drive by
is an illegal search that employs
your fears to put in place
the gears that grind you
to a halt
“Who goes there?”

Roadblocks a passport
that crosses the border
from citizen to subject

The Empire