AN IDIOT CHASE


If the personnel agent at State
Fired a starting pistol in the air
Using ambassador as the bait
I'd be willing to take the dare

You'd leave the starting block clean
Being sure to stick to your lane
I'd bemusedly take in the scene
Judging the process inane

To ensure you blast off like a rocket
They'd release a wild-eyed hare
You'd tear after it like a whippet
With all speed and savoir faire

I would find that all so tiring
Just watching you try to keep the pace
As a spectator I'd be perspiring
Knowing it to be such a waste

That wild hare had been chased before
By no lesser men than my father
To his son the race had been a chore
Wondering why anyone would bother

Though developing great expertise
In-depth experience in a region
The short list proved but a tease
To the unworthy would go the promotion

The Iron Curtain was crashing down
But diplomatic skill proved worthless
Better to look good in a gown
The post went to a child star actress

They sent him instead to an island
Where man-eating natives ate his dreams
He'd been running with a carnivorous band
When he'd learned everything's not what it seems

Tossed once more ashore stateside
After he'd captured his wild-eyed hare
All further career hopes died
With the man-eaters he found there

Combining the ends of Communism
With the deadly tactics of Hitler
This new lipstick-smeared high-heeled "-ism"
Hatefully sent in its Grim Reaper

"You've got two problems," she blithely said:
"You are male and you are white"
So this is what his hare-chasing fed
Panty-hosed discriminatory might

In my father's intense quest for wild hare
In his carnivorous rise to the top
He stole my life without a care
In the race we were the weights he dropped

Tossed post-to-post like wayward flotsam
Less valued even than boxed linen
We became like castaway jetsam
His ambitions killed his children

For to plant a child newly then uproot him
In debilitating two-year growth spurts
Is to kill each time new life and limb
Creating lifelong unhealed hurts

When mother wanted out of the game
Seeing her husband as an evil predator
His monomania led him to proclaim
"Now I'll never make ambassador!"

Just as that agency stole my life
And fueled the Hell fires of my father
It returns with raised bloody knife
To steal my best chance to recover

If you persist in this idiot race
This fool's errand for an empty prize
I'll join you in your idiot chase
Just to expose these delusions I despise

I won't join you down on the track
No compromise to suits will I make
In my favor the cards I will stack
The quickest route to the prize will I take

I'll start out as a used-car salesman
Peddling cars for more than they're worth
Despite the lofty compensation
I'll be viewed as the scum of the Earth

Soon they'll promote me to sell new cars
Hot Porsches in a spiffy showroom
From there an easy launch to the stars
To the top quickly I'll zoom

Once I've landed my own dealership
The money tills are going "Ka-ching!"
I'll be ready to play my revenge chip
And snatch what you idiots are chasing

The aims of those well-creased collars
Sweaty from decades-long exertion
Can be purchased for a few thousand dollars
Of well-placed campaign contribution

The look on your win-at-all-cost face
Bought for a pittance will be priceless
In the end you'll lose the sweaty race
To a dealer all had deemed hopeless

The career man gets the worst post
Third World embassies serve as his home
But the car dealer becomes the toast
Of Paris or London or Rome

With my victory my father's career
Rife with deadly ambition and lies
To the world will finally appear
An idiot chase for an idiot prize

© 2002 by Michael J. Farrand