Angry Villager Anthology--"Civic Duty"

[The thirty-first--and final--installment of the month-long poetry sequence that began on October 1st.]


"Civic Duty"

The Monster

Hollering,
Slavering,
Menacing,
The mob steers me across the town square
And presses me up against the looming stone statue.
Round and round the hempen constrictor coils,
Locking me to Jeremiah Healey's cold bosom.
Then Grantwood's defenders step back to ogle their ogre.
Look at them:
Erstwhile rivals now practically attached at the hip,
Reinforcing one another in the stand against the Other.
Look how they've been stirred out of their torpor this October.
I can't help but admire my handiwork--
Though my feet are hardly cloven, I form a perfect scapegoat.
The will to kill burns torch-bright in the mob's focused eyes.
And there, at last, is the town hall clock striking twelve,
Kicking off the witchiest hour of the year.
So c'mon Tom, Charlie, Emory, and Frank;
C'mon Kate, Lizzie, Ellen, and Rebecca;
Tyrus, Juan, Gunther, and Angelina--
I taunt them all with my ear-wide leer.
Go ahead, toss your rocks and your slurs.
Whip your chains, sadists.
Stick your pitchforks in me:
My work here is done.