Pledged allegiance to compassionate conservatism, bought a Texas-sized gun for the bloodless battlefield: no more dead babies killed by friendly fire from neo-docs in neo-frocks, but damn the hooded Muslims who steal thoughts of the young while armored deities give credence to the biblical slaughter of innocents in the desert heat with clean bombs equipped with reason; smarter than the average colonel calling out duties of America while fondling his side piece for luck. Pray to the fighter plane. Honor the white savior; a freedom fighter in a three piece with pockets lined in chocolate and oil. Dug a moat around the house, put bars on the windows, fortified the basement bunker, stocked it full of canned pork and beans, a hundred rolls of duct tape, a gas mask and satellite phone programmed directly to the FBI, CIA, NRA, PTA. Knock twice for presidential protection. Hide behind the bushes from the black man on the TV who murders mothers, rapes wives, steals baby sisters, harbors fugitive fundamentalists in stolen SUVs armed with surreptitious weapons - cocked plots, loaded desires. Sent the wife into exile on the south side, where narrow minded armies of the weak will surrender before first bullets fly. Locked the double agent daughter in the bathroom. Shot the dog for barking code, killed the neighbor for looking funny when he smiled and waved: Good morning, Hello, What a wonderful day in the suburbs. Lights out now. Bolt the doors. Dark days ahead, dark days ahead filled with only waiting and the whisper of prayer.