Guns

Dirty boxes
Row upon row of them
Stacked eight high
Disappearing from my sight
outside the circle of light
Cast by the lone overhead at this end of the warehouse


On the top of the dirty crate in front of me
A few samples sat
One half wrapped in oil cloth
Covered in cosmoline
The other darkly shining
Clean and pristine

My trucks and men waited outside
Armed and on alert
For anything out of the ordinary
Nonchalantly eating sandwiches and sipping on coffee
One hand always close to their weapons
My Polish friend across from me
Doubtless having taken similar precautions

But we were both in earnest that day
Him to have me buy
Myself to have him sell
We haggled good naturedly for last minute perks
I got two more crates in the deal
Along with ten gross of matching uniform shirts
We were both pretty happy

A toast was poured to seal the deal
Drank in salute to one another
I called my men to invite them in
He called his to open the overhead door
They even helped us load up

Now on the dusty west Texas highway
Our convoy was spaced out over ten miles
Twenty semi trailers of arms and ammunition
To be placed in the hands of American soldiers
Not the regular army
Though an army just the same
Spread out across the country
Under the guise of numerous militia groups
Weekend gun clubs
Even a PTA in Illinois

This will help put us on track
For the next step for America
A second revolution
Out with the old
and in with the new

Tomorrow's breakfast at the cafe
I can share the good news
We've got our guns
The short game is afoot
The until now vague and near future date
Can now be penciled in

This is our last resort
To protect America from itself
The tyranny of a puppet government
Controlled by a deep pocketed few

Revolution!
We are still recruiting
Care to join in?