His property

Not a good idea: prisoners in uniform from the 1920 film From Now On.

Uniformed in discontent,
Imprisoned so, ingrown, undone.
Outside of him our hearts are bent,
Diversified, each other shun.

Distinctive when in Him we’re found,
Alive in Him, true liberty,
Members of His body bound,
Restored to Him, His property.

Hands up

As a statue in a trance,
Snap a shot of self surrender.
Part your legs and raise your hands
As your privacy we render.

Silent as we run you through,
Underneath your underpants,
It’s the least that you can do,
Your only value’s tolerance.

To Peter King

My TV lessoned me
Regarding liberty
Of this I sing.
Uniformed snipers hide,
Cameras on collars ride,
Must pledge my schizophrenic pride
To Peter King.

My TV’s spreading fear.
Isis indeed is near.
Where can I go?
Irregular alert,
Nuclear that would hurt.
Trucks sanitation filled with dirt
We’ll overflow.

Lone wolves now hide and seek,
Too smart for our critique.
Our trust they steal.
Paranoid best we be,
At home with our TV,
Believing every lie for free,
Reality unreal.