the thick thuggish man insisted to a street
reporter that in fact he wore a garment that shows hes an ICE agent
the reporter stepped backaway and asked
the man to humor her Turn around and
around slowly.
mockingly the agent heldup both armstouched his
fingertips together and slowly pirouetted
growled joked
This must be how a
ballerina feels.
Sorry.
Left my tutu at home.
Didn’t want it crushed or soiled.
after a slow complete threesixty
the reporter disagreed with the agent
she saw nothing that distinguished
the man as an agent
That’s because you lack insight. he chuckled
Yaknow. Insight.
I don’t know.
Lemme show you.
off came the flakjacket
off came a light black cotton jacket
he stood for a moment in a white tshirt
You see?
she shook her head no had no idea where this strip was going
No. snorted How can you be a reporter
and lack insight?
Awwell. he reached backgrasped
the tshirt at the shoulders and stripped it off over his head
snapped it briskly
barechested thrusted it forward towards her
through the front of the tshirt she
could makeout on its back in capitalized black blocked letters
ICE above AGENT
Clever, huh? You see how you lack insight for your job?
I see mine in white
shining clarity.
Wednesday
afternoon, 6 8. 25
0950, Moanday,
11 8. 25
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