Skip to content

The Accomplice Poem By David Clewell

The Accomplice Poem By David Clewell

This poem isn’t an intricate theory years in the making.
This poem can speak only for this poem.
This poem will tell you it’s not what you think.
This poem is nothing more than a series of coincidences.
This poem can’t help but attract the occasional crackpot.
This poem is offered in full compliance with the Freedom of Information Act.

This poem is not anything like the Official Version.
This poem is holding something back.
This poem is covering up.
This poem may be afraid of worldwide panic.
This poem is no secret prototype the government is testing.
This poem has a lot of powerful friends behind it.

This poem is something you’d be happier not knowing.
This poem is murder on reliable witnesses.
This poem is counting on your complete cooperation.
This poem can put you at the scene of untold crimes or
this poem is your iron-clad alibi, depending.

This poem doesn’t want anything to happen to you.
This poem hopes you get the message, although
this poem has no explicit message of its own.
This poem can’t promise it will bail you out.
This poem won’t even remember you.

This poem is well aware of the statute of limitations.
This poem means what it says.
This poem means anything you need it to.
This poem has seen things hard to believe.
This poem is all you have to believe.

This poem has implications.
This poem couldn’t possibly be.
This poem is so good it ought to be illegal.
This poem is the only hard evidence recovered.
This poem has your prints all over it.

This poem has recently been discharged.
This poem is not a disgruntled loner acting spontaneously.
This poem has been seen consorting with other known poems.
This poem has confederates in top-floor windows all over the city.
This poem never goes by the same name twice.

This poem has no highly trained Russian look-alike.
This poem never received specific instructions.
This poem has nothing better to do.
This poem can hit you where you live.

This poem seldom misses at this distance.
This poem has its story down cold.
This poem doesn’t want to have to say it more than once.
This poem has never seen its share of the money.
This poem is just the patsy.
This poem laughs at the Witness Protection Program.
This poem wants immunity before it starts naming names.

This poem isn’t taking the fall for anyone.
This poem has you exactly where it wants you.
This poem you think you’re getting to the bottom of right now,
this poem that’s taken you into its confidence,

this poem that’s made you an accomplice-after-whatever-the-fact,
this poem suggesting in so many words that it’s always been on your side:
this poem doesn’t make those kinds of mistakes.
This poem will give you up every time.

David Clewell
first published in Boulevard, vol. 12, no. 3, Spring/Summer 1997
also from The Conspiracy Quartet

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.