The screws on your back (Poem)

You think
You understand
When you hear the story second hand.

When you learn
The three year old
Hit the floor.

When the pregnant mother
Tells you
Of her nightmares

When you see where
The taser hit
The father to be

When you hear
The door was broken down

When you learn
The cops were called
Based on nothing
But lies

When you learn that
Irene, and two of her sons,
Signed statements saying
They were there
They were spoken to
They were threatened
They were in danger
They were present for every moment
And felt every stimulus
When they never left the house.

When you learn
Even
The chief of police
Says the Moons
Were trespassing
Not the other way around.

And so,
Everyone knows that
The call was fraudulent
The statements were lies
There was no cause.

You think you understand
When you're told how the man
With the gun
Snuck onto the property
From the Moon's home,
And in the lighting
The frightened family
Thought he was a Moon with a gun
For he never announced
He was a cop.

You think you understand
When you learn the
Only thing
That stopped this man
From committing murder
Was when the mother
Stepped in front of him
And, in his moment of hesitation,
Barely finishing before he pulled
The trigger
Said, "You're not going to shoot
An unarmed pregnant woman,"
And staked her life
The life of her three year old
The life of the father of her child
to be
That might have died that day
before becoming
A child
On the hope that this man
Who was willing to shoot
An unarmed woman
Would stop at the mention
Of pregnancy.

You think you understand
When you learn
That he switched to his Taser.

You think you understand
When you learn that
After she said,
"You're not going to Tase
An unarmed pregnant woman,"
He hesitated again before
Going to the house,
Where her three year old
And the father of her child to be
Were inside
Threatening no one,
And broke down the door.

You think you understand when you learn
That this is when
The cop knocked the child to the ground
And used the Taser.

You think you understand
When you learn that even
If the allegations were true,
Which they weren't,
It was illegal for the cop
To break down the door.

You think you understand when
You look at the child
And wish you understood as little
As he did
About what happened.

You think you understand when you learn that
The Moons called
Not just the police in hopes of
Getting the family killed
But also child welfare
Tearing the family apart
For who would trust a woman in
A home with a broken door
And a man in jail,
waiting for sentencing
after the police saw fit to tase him,
to raise a child,
And animal welfare
in hopes of
shutting down the farm,
And code enforcement,
For there are rules about
Houses not having gaping holes
where a door once stood,
And every other
agency
they could think of.

You think you understand
When you see someone
Separated from her son
Start to crack when
Code enforcement
Has to cancel
Because
The person they
Had been sending
Needed to
See his sick
Child.

And you think you understand
Why she cracks
When she is reminded that
Healthy or sick
She cannot see
Her child.

You think you understand.
But then
You go
Into the house.

Yellow letters on a blue background
Tell you "Welcome",
in a cozy painted style,
from the floor.

You look closer at what
Once was door
And see the painting
Had once said,
"Welcome
As you are,"
On one side
And
On the other,
"Home
Is where the"
And a heart shape
In red.

There is no more.

The "is" is gone.
Perhaps it is still there
Just bent backward
Hidden
Under what once was door.

You can't open
The wreckage,
Nor can you
Close it.

So you step over the part
That holds the doorknob.

You notice
The lock that didn't
Protect.

You see a piece,
You know not what,
Thrown farther,
And you know
That the destruction
Goes further.

You slip
Through what once
Was doorway
You're careful
Not to step
On the wreckage.

Then you feel the screws
The screws that once
Held the door together.
The screws that were
Never meant to be seen
Or felt.

The screws on the
Part of the door
Still hanging broken
On the hinges.

The screws that scrape your back
As you attempt to enter
The house that has
No door.

It is when you feel
The screws on your back
That you realize
You will never understand.

How could you understand
When you haven't had to
Step in front of a loaded gun
To save your love
From a being killed
By a thug
With a badge
Who follows no law?

How could you understand
When you haven't
Gambled your life
And the lives of
Those you love
On the belief that a single
Word
Can stop a killing?

How can you understand
When you will never
Carry a child
Never feel a kick?

How can you understand when
No one has ever pointed
A loaded gun
at you?

How can you understand
When your door stands
Strong?

How can you understand
When you've never
Been charged with interfering
With administrative activities
Because you told someone
Not to shoot you?

How can you understand
When you aren't being
Called to court.

How can you understand
When you have never
Known the feeling
Of having electricity
Pumped through your
Body
To give someone a
Cheap
             thrill
Simply because he has
A badge
And you have nothing?

How can you understand
When you haven't
Suffered through
It?

And
You think
You will never
Understand.

-

Yeah.  It happened.  The Cape Elizabeth police are inconsistent at best.

On the one hand, this isn't the first time the neighbors have made fake calls.  The police have actually recommended that my sister and her family file a formal complaint against the neighbors because then, apparently, they wouldn't have to respond to every bullshit call the neighbors made.

On the other hand, the cop responding in this case had his gun drawn before he even made contact with anyone, was clearly ready to kill everyone (except perhaps the three year old, who he did send on a trip straight to the floor because . . . Jasper) basically went out of his way to look like an armed assailant rather than a police officer, and didn't even bother making up plausible bullshit as to why he broke various laws to do what he did.

I can't give too many more details.  The case is ongoing.  The Moons have money to burn.  I don't know about right now, but they could definitely afford houses on multiple continents not long ago, which gives you some idea of how far they outclass all non-evil members of my extended family in the income and/or wealth category.  Cape Elizabeth is changing, has been since I was a kid if not longer.  The farms are dying.  The affluent are taking over.

The Moons are in the second category.

So there are limits to what I can say without a lawyer coming after me, or the police getting called saying I'm threatening someone with a machete because I'm trimming the bushes.  (Farming implements may look scary, but wood is God damned hard.  Most people with axes are not ax murderers, for example, but instead wood cutters, though we were using it as a hammer today.)

There will come a time when I can say more, and when that time comes I intend to say it.  With pictures if at all possible.  (Didn't bring my camera today.)