Cornered

Deep in the White House,
maybe in a closet,
the door is shut and
barricaded from
the inside by an
armoire and a heavy sofa.
To his left you might see a
machine gun.
To his right is a decoy:
a rifle labeled
the 2nd Amendment.
The man’s face is in shadow.
On the wall, his country’s
upside-down flag hangs crookedly.
On the wall opposite,
the flag of treason has been
nailed to the wall
beside the hanging skeletal figure of a
young man.
A Bible sits,
brand new and yet covered in dust,
on a barren shelf behind him.
On the back wall,
a flat-screen TV
frames his face.
There is a whiteboard
deep inside the closet.
An Expo marker is tied on a string
to the corner of the board.
It has been recently erased.
A picture of his daughter has been
tacked to the board with a
round black magnet,
her face false with make-up.
If you look closely,
you will see that
his right shoelace is undone.
The hem of his pants are crooked.
Perched on the bridge of his nose
is a pair of borrowed glasses.
If he knew these things,
if he could see these things,
he would not let them slide.
The man is cornered.
He has cornered himself.