Update: I wrote this poem years ago when the stun gun began to be used. This man is not a dangerous criminal (See dailymail.co.uk – Native American Marine tased by park ranger) but he was treated like one. The device is just so easy to use; and it’s so easy for a poorly trained policeman to forget the approved procedure of arrest when a click of a button can bring a person screaming at law enforcement’s feet. Women have been tazed for refusing to put on masks in the pandemic after explaining they have asthma. This device, wrongly used, can become judge, jury and verdict/sentence; and if you have a weak heart or pacemaker, it can be your final judge.
Let me tell you the story
Of a man named, Fool.
He thought he had free speech,
and that his pen was his tool.
Better take stock, Doc,
or your in for a shock.
They dragged him into court,
but they couldn’t keep him quiet.
He shouted, ‘I’ve committed no crime! ‘
They charged, ‘You tried to start a riot! ‘
They’ve got the gun, son,
They can stun!
The judge pounded his gavel. ‘You are
charged with writing a fusillade
of ideas criticizing our great leader,
who was choosen by God!
‘Try to hide, Clyde,
or you’ll get fried!
The judge ordered the guard,
‘Activate the device.’
‘Don’t stun me – I’m bound hand and foot! ‘
The guard pressed the button,
and Fool paid the price!
Writhing and moaning as if in some
invisible Hell, the prisoner fell.
A man in the courtroom spoke.
‘Was it right to use it? Was it justified?
Look at those spasms! He might have died!
Better conform norm or it could get warm.
The judge’s glared. His nostrils flared
The man retreated a few steps.
The guard stared.
Head for the ditch, Rich,
or you may do the e-twitch.
Stay on track, Mack,
or your gonna’ get zapped.
So be careful, my friend,
before you take that plunge,
or you may be dancin’
The Stun Gun Lunge! ‘
