As my fingers plucked it from the letter box the envelope and I began to sweat bullets– HUAC was inviting me to attend the investigation
Cherokee DNA in my cellular magma, Cousin Sam dead in the Alamo, Cousin Woody singin’ in heaven– and now this!
Grandma Ruchel came over from Minsk Maybe we should go back– back to standing in line?
Invited to answer questions about what I ask? So– I walked a few peace demonstrations wrote a few poems too– big deal!
I calmed my steel– this isn’t all that bad, afterall–
I get a free trip to Washington but the DC of peace parade underground collectives is long over
In the old days I took target practice, knew J. Edgar’s ten best public enemies– I was the genuine article trouble maker
Rotton apples running the show anyway, buncha liars in dark panel suits– who cares what they want?
Should I dress like an A-rab carrying my own sand with me– maybe show up with a camel or two?
Wait a second… this letter is postmarked 1954– bit late don’t ya think?
Now I remember, HUAC is deceased! But– if HUAC sent me an e-mail I’d answer it– and only if I wanted to
Falsifying paranoid dreams it seems are the still price of security here in the homeland
Now if I can just find my desk I’ll dive for cover
Hammond Guthrie is the author of AsEverWas: Memoirs of a Beat Survivor. He is the editor of the great online journal The 3rd Page. He can be reached at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Stew Albert manages the Yippie Reading Room. He can be reached at: email@example.com
© 2003– Hammond Guthrie & Stew Albert