Infiltration always starts small.
You get a plan, plans change
And you work with what you get.

Sometimes you slip.
Someone spots a trigger switch
Peeking out of your pocket.
Plaid becomes a nucleic time bomb.

All radioactive wool
Full of flare and inch thick cuffs.
Hemmed by hand and covered with patches.
Each one detonating a different city.

Sitting quietly and unsuspecting
In the parking lot.
Dodge, Chrysler, and Volvo militaries,
Wait comfortably in line
With books & instruments
Miles from home.

Sometimes God walks in and
You know you're in trouble.
Caught by your bravery
And lack of Hail Marys.
You try to protect your victim from
Over exposure to the sun beating in your chest.

With a smile like the Moon you engage him.
Testing who smiles wider, you or God..
Your subjects like flowers,
Relishing in the light,
Gaze intensely mesmerized
At the sight of this silent war you've waged.