The Patriot (or A Scoundrel)

He came knocking.He saw me.
Grinning condescendingly,
He spat contempt from his eyes,
As only a patriot could have.
Unholstered his gun.
Placed it on the table.
I was given Hobson’s choice.
Hobson always settles matters.
Not even an argument,
a negotiation it was certainly not.
There was no consent but
The Patriot had my vote.

The Scoundrel is a quick learner.
Next time he shall come,
Abegging for approval,
In a tank or in a fighter aircraft,
Park it or Land it upon my chest,
He shall show me my prior consent,
He shall not require my vote.

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