the reconstruction of an accusation / vignette

the whereabouts of Rene Beauchemin,

unpublished poet on the lam from proper

authorities was reported to the local cops.

they busted into his cold-water flat with a stern

flat-footed kick to the door causing it to collapse

in a cloud of dust ending strangely in a muffled

sound akin to the deepest register a muted tuba makes.

inside, after the cops poked-around, they grabbed

a bunch of poems from the table and waved them

accusingly in clumsy Rene Beauchemin’s face

who sheepishly declared: “those aren’t mine”.

so the cops collared him for plagiarism instead.