He Isn't Dead

A poem from 2016

We have a job for you to do

A special job

Your Country needs you

We have a problem

An enemy to defeat

We need to create a headline

You are the perfect candidate

We need to make this look good

There can be no mistakes

Some fruitcakes will spot them

And if they don’t spot them they’ll invent them

We’ll make sure their errant views

Don’t make it onto the mainstream news

We’ve found a dupe to take the fall

Some low life no hoper

A bit wrong in the head

We can control whatever he says

We’ve hacked his social media

We’ll plant some paraphernalia for the police to find

Making him an extremist nutter

The media will go to town on the sucker

We have an agent who looks a bit like him

He’ll be your killer

Tell no one

We’ve sealed off the street

Everyone’s an actor here

*lights, camera, action!*

Normal day

Sun shining

Walking along

Shouts

A madman

A confrontation

A shot

Screams

“Bystanders” in terror

Fake blood

Lying still

Breathe shallow

Fast moving images being caught on a mobile phone

Grainy CCTV

Fake ambulance blaring

Fake paramedics appearing

Fake police attending

Fake perp surrendering

Fake witnesses bending the truth

A press conference

Surrounded by close family

A grieving wife

Reads a statement

About a wonderful life wasted

But why are they laughing?

They don’t look saddened

Are they even his family?

Are they bad actors?

Why no tears?

This shooter taken into custody

Doesn’t look right

Why is he denying murder?

Why is he saying things deranged

Like he wasn’t even in town today?

Why do his neighbours say he was quiet and friendly

That they had no clue about his ideology

Manifestly photoshopped images appear in print

To paint him in a horrid light

The news denounces everyone

With his alleged views

Propaganda machine condemns the moderates

They say they legitimised the extremists

Doubts sown

Condemnation crowed

Job done

And the Internet keeps guessing

Well done

The State is pleased with you

Fake doctors pronounced you dead on arrival

There was nothing the “paramedics” could do

A little plastic surgery

A new identity

A new passport

Lots of money

A beautiful villa

An exotic island

You will want for nothing