"Drop the pen.
Step away from the notebook.
That's it…
nice and slow…
easy now…
keep your hands where we can see them."

I comply.
They frisk me
and find two blue Uniballs
hidden in my left sock,
but that's it.

After a search of the house,
they leave
with a sack of journals and pens,
thinking they have it all.

I smile.
It's impossible to ransack
a poet's soul.

Text and image © 2013 by Dirk deVries. All
rights reserved.