The Angry Bookseller

When Bush disappeared people
He denied it.

And we didn’t believe him
but we denied it
too.

When Trump disappears people
He broadcasts it live.

We watch it.

And change the channel.

A civilian swears an oath. To support and defend the constitution. Against all enemies. Foreign and domestic. He swears to bear true faith and allegiance to the same. And in the same sentence, he swears to obey the President.

So help him god.

And now he’s a soldier. Well, not yet. But he’s sworn the oath. And is shipped off to Alabama for training.

Nobody in Alabama ever explains to this soldier what he’s to do when the oath conflicts with itself.

I was an unlikely soldier
but as a soldier,
I learned:

Life is brief. Eat when you can.

It’s a big world. Most of it is falling apart.
The rest of it already has.

You can never have too much ammo.

And.

Ammo isn’t as important as you might think.

Because in America
Anybody can pretend
to be a soldier.

They can buy the uniform
They can buy the weapons.
And march on the capitol.

Here’s the thing about being a soldier.

It’s cold and wet, hot and muggy.

You don’t ever sleep.

And it used to mean something.

I grew up Catholic.

I joined the Army.

I went to college.

Now I work in trucking.