August 25, 2020

televengeance

A month ago, on every evening newsreel, the suburban couple paced
their shallow front steps, shouting at a passing crowd. She was waving
a silver pistol, pointing at no one in particular, and he—perhaps emboldened
by the heft of his rifle—had squared his shoulders in a steelier resolve.
Still, it was hard to take them seriously. He was wearing belted chinos. A mustard stain
had marred the crispness of her striped boatneck. They looked rabid, unhinged, bound
for send-ups by the late-night comics. And then, yesterday, they returned to the screen
in starrier roles. She’d had her hair done. He’d lost a little weight. They’d put on 
tailored suit jackets. Their hands lay folded at their knees like sleeping babies.
They didn’t need their guns anymore. They had the ear of the president now.