The Idyossey
Chapter 17: Across the Border

The Idyossey
Chapter 1- Ichor of the Gods
Chapter 2- The Price of Peace
Chapter 3- Empyre
Chapter 4- Woeful Warrior
Chapter 5- Mitzvah
Chapter 6- News Analysis
Chapter 7- Strategic Planner
Chapter 8- Aristea
Chapter 9- Last Supper
Chapter 10- Skullduggery
Chapter 11: Family Reunion
Chapter 12- Black Goddess
Chapter 13- Saboteur
Chapter 14- Glossolalia
Chapter 15- Visitation
Chapter 16- Dead or Alive
Chapter 17- Across the Border
Chapter 18- The Unraveling
Chapter 19- Summer in the City
Chapter 20- Wolf and Jackal
Chapter 21- George Gloats
Chapter 22- Surreality
Chapter 23- Kidnapped
Chapter 24- Denouement

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Regime change makes neighbors nervous
As new national policy forms. Changing
Trade and commerce rules force
Economies to adjust. Defense and
Social programs are re-evaluated,
Politics destabilized.

If a leader is bellicose and coarse,
Forces his will upon his neighbor,
Then conflict always follows, the region suffers.
In July, 2003, the country to the south,
Armed to the teeth, meddles
With the Commonwealth of Canada.

Prime Minister Chrétien’s of French descent,
Independent, outspoken, prone
To chart his own course.
Chrétien opposes the invasion of Iraq,
And with France and Germany,
Sticks it to Prince George.

The President meets with the boys
To discuss regime change across the border.
While publicly displaying good will,
This testosterone-poisoned gang
Seethes with anger, anxious to control
Its weaker neighbor to the north.

“Next they’ll convert to Euros,” George snickers.
“Don’t laugh,” Rumsfeld adds, “It’s possible.”
“They’re pissing off our pharmaceutical support,”
Tommy Thompson chimes in, “Undercutting U.S. prices.”
“They’re about to legalize homosexual marriage!”
Sly Ashcroft’s spittle flies.

Hard-hearted Cheney adds his thoughts,
“Look, this shit-head Chrétien’s got to go.
He’s making us look foolish. The whole world
Watches as our pipsqueak neighbor
Gives us the finger! We can engineer regime change
Halfway across the globe, but not here?”

At these gatherings of the Mob,
It’s Cheney who sets the agenda.
Though his cold heart beats irregularly,
It’s just one beat from the President's,
A thought not lost on any, except
Simple George, who thinks of jogging.

“From marijuana policy, to health care,
Pharmaceutical prices to sodomy, our neighbors
To the north are going south, and fast.
I propose to chop them at the knees,
Get them back in line.” Heads snap
Wide eyes turn to Spencer Abraham.

The group stares at Spencer in disbelief.
One does not speak out of turn, there
Are consequences. Abraham, his plump face
Turning red, realizes his mistake. In the circle
Of tough guys surrounding Bush
You do not usurp Dick Cheney.

“Remind me to straighten out that fat fuck,”
Cheney whispers to Don, who nods.
Having given up yoga, Cheney’s become
His old self again: Ruthless and single-minded.
The docs have added hormones to his meds;
They make Dick Cheney cruelly aggressive.

“Back to business, Mr. President,” Dick insists,
Simple George looks up, morning jog
On his mind. He’s happy with his thighs,
They’ve slimmed, his calves are stronger too,
More defined. “OK, I’m with you Dick…
Please go on,” says George.

“All right, first, blaming it on drugs,
We tighten up the border, make big delays.
Next we find counterfeit pharmaceuticals,
Canadian, with harmful side effects.
Then well-placed PR, their health care crisis,
Massive malpractice, bribery, a big scandal.

“Next, using the Patriot Act, arrest Canadian Islamists.
Announce a terrorist cell, based in Montreal.
We demand that Canada clamp down, claim
They’re soft on terrorists. Finally, we plant evidence
That Chrétien’s a homo, provide
Doctored photos to the tabloids.”

“It’s a start,” says Rummy, grinning,
Slaps Cheney on the back. “Shit!”
Snaps Dick, “Not so damn hard, that hurts!”
“Can’t take it Dick? Just being supportive,”
Cheney raises his fist at Don. “OK boys,”
Chimes in George, “Take it outside.

“Sounds good to me,” George smiles,
“You guys put it together.” Foreign
Policy determined, the conference ends.
This mob has its rules, there’s no dissent.
The north is open territory; Jean Chrétien
Will soon sleep with the fishes.

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