While You Were Out

While you were out, some men came
who claimed to understand the Inspired Word of God.
They gave their interpretation to the people,
and most of the people believed.

While you were out, the subway began to feel a bit
like a cattle car: we walked in an orderly fashion; we were packed
in tight silence; we had some idea of where we were going,
but no idea where we would really end up. Still, we were optimistic.

(On September 11, my boss asked someone why I was crying.
I still ask myself why she was not.)

While you were out, they signed a lot of things in your name—
well, not exactly signed, but sent out, implicit, up to 240 at a time
(the maximum number of individually guidable nuclear warheads
on a single Trident II submarine, of which there are several).

While you were out there was libel, slander, and deceit.
When you came back in the room, people you thought
were your friends averted their eyes and refused to talk to you,
making only soft, rude noises among themselves.

But wait, you said. How did this happen?
I was only gone for a minute.