At the Bank
“I need a picture ID,” she said.
I replied,”To break a 100?”
The bank teller nodded, Yes.
I shook my head and wondered,
“Why assume I’m a bad guy?
“Why compare me to a data base?
“It was only a Benjamin, not millions.
What’s happened to the marketplace?”
I used to be a private citizen,
An individual within community.
Now everyone’s a potential threat,
Subject to Statist scrutiny.
They lump us into one pile.
All made to be the same.
“For safety, give up freedom–”
It’s a narrative they love to frame.
This is a poetic replay of what recently happened to my husband at our bank.
Copyright © 2014 Lori Hoeck all rights reserved.