The surface should be perfectly still,
reflecting every approved procedure,
every box checked, every signature filed.
A model of order.
Never mind the algae bloom.
Never mind the growing heap of mistakes
rotting quietly at the water’s edge.
“YOU’RE FIRED,” rings across the lawn.
Problem solved.
Because nothing cleans a polluted pond
like tossing one or maybe thirteen unlucky fish onto the bank.
Because accountability is most effective
when it travels exclusively downhill.
We can simply agree the disasters were anomalies,
the warnings were unclear,
the experts were biased,
and the evidence was taken out of context.
When the glass begins to crack,
we’ll blame the temperature.
When the foundation sinks,
we’ll commission a report on gravity.
And if confidence starts to waver,
I know the perfect distraction:
let’s bomb another country.
The markets will love it.
The flags will wave.
The headlines will cooperate.
That ought to prove we’re in control.
And if somehow that doesn’t work,
we could always try a coup—
though, in fairness,
it helps to know how to spell democracy
before attempting to overthrow one.
Corney Press 