by Earl J. Wilcox
They look like ordinary folks---
housewives, plumbers, UPS drivers,
preachers, professors---citizens
seeking to vent their rage, exercise
their vaunted freedom of speech---
placards, banners, lobbyist-crafted
slogans stealthily unhidden. Comes
the signal flare they heave volley
after volley of hate, lob lies,
bombard with verbal bombs,
try to rout the reasonable with
rants of furious fusillades, shells
of sanctimoniousness. These are
the artillery of raucous discord
paraded before the press. Like all
guerrillas at war with democracy,
they lie in wait to take town hall.
Earl J. Wilcox writes about aging, baseball, literary icons, politics, and southern culture. His work appears in more than two dozen journals; he is a regular contributor to The New Verse News. More of Earl's poetry appears at his blog, Writing by Earl.
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