Adrian Slonaker

A Goody Goody No More

“You need not say or do anything, 

but anything you do
or say
may be used as evidence in court.”
Those were words
he never thought would be directed at him,
the angel of Hammersmith School,
the obnoxious obeyer of crosswalks,
the foe of fat and sugar,
the mayor of the friend zone.
In transit between brick-and-mortar homes
in a haze of white-collar homelessness,
he opted to renew his ID-
early of course-
using a PO box as an address,
arguing that he lived there
when the snotty civil servant
contested his choice of domain.
What caused him to snap?
If he could have shrunk himself to the size of a gerbil
prove the plausibility of his argument
he would have done so.
Was it his bout of bronchitis
or virtue fatigue
and a subconscious desire to
speak the words a rebel?
Clueless about the stakes-
since short and chubby citizens
have been known to add inches and subtract pounds
to ID renewals
without any adverse consequences,
he retched with shock when he received
the officer’s email.
Having alienated acquaintances
with his imperious preachiness,
he cried in solitude under a blanket,
just as he did when reprimanded for
taking too many cookies from the cookie jar
and e-begged a lawyer to help him
stay out of jail
and avoid a crushing fine
for apparently violating the Motor Vehicles Act
despite never driving.