Wednesday, April 26, 2017

A poem by Gary G Pelow, Companions

I do not hate them, these people who are following me, who are stalking me, like John Nash and his companions.
I go to the laundromat, the coinop, and they are there, staring at me, trying to unnerve me, trying to make me afraid.
I go to Nick's Super store to buy simple food items on the corner and they are there, staring at me, following me.
They are standing on the street corner of Meigs and Monroe and they are there, staring at me, spying on me.
I go to the Roman Catholic Church for a free dinner, a nutritious dinner, and they are there, following me, spying on me, staring at me.
I often feel afraid of my companions in the sense they will eventually use violence coming from some grudge they have against me to kill me.
I see them talking and texting to their bosses or handlers, the ones who are in charge of my companions who are stalking me.
They always intend to make me feel frightened, threatened, unsafe, humiliated, meek and week, they intend to make me feel and act like a coward, a milquetoast.
But I am tired of being afraid or being threatened or stalked to make me feel constant fear, fuck that shit.
No more fear. I will stand my ground.  I will defend myself if need be. I will stand up to protect my rights and dignity without backing down. I will always follow the law but never capitulate to my companions who are my enemies, I will continue my life, they would have to kill me to stop me from living normally.
By the way, my companions, my enemies who are always there may not actually exist.

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