The Unexpected Rise of Tyrants

“Listen,” said Dorothy to the Lion,

“I’m only going to tell you once.”

Even though they were in their own house,

Under the covers and with nothing but a nightlight on,

She grabbed his shoulders and said,

“If you repeat this to anyone, especially

That sad sack Straw Man you call your friend,

We’re all done for. I’ll rip out your seams and

Scatter your stuffing myself,

Before the gendarmes get their hands on you,

And if you have any sense, you’ll thank me for it.”

He’d have held his breath if he'd had a heart or lungs.

“The king is an ordinary man,” she said,

“An accidental king, a liar and a crook.

Don’t believe the official line about anything. Anything.”

“Thanks,” he whispered conspiratorially,

Even though he already knew this. Everyone knew

It was an era of idiots upon idiots.

But without any muscle, what could he do about it?

Eventually she fell asleep, one arm thrown over him,

But he lay awake, wondering if, if worse came to worse,

Would she really cut his seams? Or throw him at the king?

He hoped not, but with nothing as it should be, it was hard to tell.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would ask the Straw Man.

Or maybe Toto.

He didn’t trust that Tin Man anymore, who now looked

Down on him just for being an animal, and stuffed.

The Tin Man reflected whatever was in the air,

All his brains in his skin.

Little did Lion know, in that dark night, Toto

Had already been sent back to Kansas, tossed

Into a whirlwind with deportation papers, and

Straw Man was already ashes, and

Tin Man would clap his frantic, tinny hands

When, in the morning, while the dew was sparkling pink,

They came for Dorothy.