I Saw Saddam Hussein in Brooklyn

by Raul Chuletas

HE was driving a cab in Williamsburg
I said, Aren't you supposed to be dead
or maybe dictating some people somewhere?
He said he'd left that all far behind him
though he still had a bad scar from a scud
that landed in his boudoir one morning.
Yes, Saddam said ''boudoir,'' and that was when
I saw the gun in the passenger seat
and the latest TV Guide on the dash.
It's a miracle I survived, he said.
No more so than getting a yellow cab
in Williamsburg, I said to him, although
that had been changing, what with invading
artsies/yuppies who reek entitlement.
Invasions, he said, I know invasions.
You push here, push there, but nothing changes,
nothing is destroyed, things just move around.
We stopped at a gas station on Grand Street
Saddam stared ahead as the attendant
filled up the tank and wiped off the windshield.
Without paying, he eased us into traffic.

(Previously published in 11211 Magazine.)

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