The Bushiad
Chapter 11: George Dreams


The Bushiad
Chapter 1- The Rage of George
Chapter 2- Rattling of Sabres
Chapter 3- Entreaties Rejected
Chapter 4- Osama Speaks
Chapter 5- The Underworld
Chapter 6- Fatherly Advice
Chapter 7- The Gods of War
Chapter 8- Juggernaut
Chapter 9- The Prisoners
Chapter 10- Interrogation
Chapter 11- George Dreams
Chapter 12- In the Clouds
Chapter 13- D
Chapter 14- Secret Agent
Chapter 15- The Tyrant Flees
Chapter 16- Out of Order
Chapter 17- George Descends
Chapter 18- Master Kim
Chapter 19- Uncurious George
Chapter 20- Asana
Chapter 21- Doing the Patriot Act
Chapter 22- Immaculate Reception
Chapter 23- The Little Prince
Chapter 24- Mission Accomplished

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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The Bushiad
and The Idyossey

George stands in a golden meadow,
Warm sun shining, he feels the Texas heat,
Removes his windbreaker, then his shoes,
Lets bare feet feel the ground. A blackbird
Rises from the brush and swings low toward him.
George ducks just as its beak grazes the top of his head.

Turned toward a familiar clapboard house,
Maine’s surf bounding ashore, white waves crashing,
George runs home, the blackbird in pursuit.
His legs slip and slide beneath him. No traction,
No matter how hard or fast he tries, he makes no headway
As the blackbird gains ground for another swipe.

“Quickly George, quickly,” shouts his mother, Barbara,
White hair blowing in the coastal breeze.
George is on all fours crawling in the high grass,
Sharp stalks scrape and snare his face and arms, he panics.
The blackbird almost on him, bigger than before
More like an eagle now, talons stretched in his direction.

He hears a screech and falls on his back, arms flailing.
His mother stands above him, reaches down and slaps him hard.
His face stings and he begins to cry. The blackbird sits
On Barbara’s shoulder, her hair twisted in its beak,
His black eyes, deep dark bottomless pools
Stare at George who cannot look away.

Suddenly he’s yelling: “I didn’t do it!” feeling angry.
He’s back on his feet in the dry Texas grass,
Laura yells, “Quickly, George, quickly!” from the house.
Her hair is white like Barbara’s, and George dislikes it.
“Why did she change her hair?” The blackbird
Now sits on George’s shoulder, whispers in his ear.

George can’t hear the bird over Laura/Barbara’s yelling.
He tells her to stop talking, but she keeps on and on.
George knows this bird is telling secrets,
Important secrets he must hear and remember,
But he can’t make it out, can’t understand.
George’s dad shoos the bird away.

“C’mon son,” says George Senior, taking Junior’s hand.
They walk to the house, salt spray at their backs.
Blackbird nowhere to be seen, George feels safe.
His hand feels warm in his Dad’s firm grip.
He looks at his feet. His shoes are back on,
But he feels very small, so close to the ground.

As they near the house he turns to Daddy and looks up
Expecting his familiar face. George is surprised to see another:
Dark hair, broad swarthy features, black mustache...
The face seems familiar, but George can’t place it,
Name on the tip of his tongue, he struggles to remember.
George feels his hand squeezed tighter.

“Who are you,” asks George, “Where’s the blackbird?”
“I am the blackbird, don’t you know my name?”
He asks in deep and accented voice, resonant and rich.
Dressed in black he wears strange headgear and a cape.
“I can’t remember,” George stammers, searching.
“Darth Vader?” asks George. His voice trembles.

“Not quite, young Bush, but close. Hussein’s the name, Saddam.
I am your father!” “No!” cries George, tries to pull away.
But Saddam won’t let go, “Join me, Son. Together
We will rule the world, Father and Son together at last!”
“Never!” shrieks George, “The world is mine!”
Saddam lets go, and George falls.

The blackbird flies to the darkening east
Disappearing into the blackness.
Golden grasses glow beneath the setting sun.
Lost and alone between Texas wind and Maine surf
Confused, George gazes at a shining point at the horizon,
A lone star alongside the crescent moon.

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The Bushiad and The Idyossey - Copyright 2004 by Victor Littlebear - All rights reserved