The Revolution

The revolution 

is facing

this way. Their

song is only

briefly alarming

you don’t have

to do a thing

she said in the

cadence of

gentle rules

the switching

about which I

never understand

the way I

stand betrays

a dream

but for now

I will not

get shot. I was

asked to 

demonstrate

once and

I can feel

it building in

me so sweet

I’m sorry

for trying so

hard for

you always

come like

the sun. I made

a few 

gestures. I was

young & 

had not been

watched

yet. I recall

the white

comb dripping

artfully

I was quickly

told to sit

down because

of those 

foolish faces

and gestures

I still 

bear. I have

the same

birthday

as a famous

clown. When

it begins

we will dance

at the front

with our

sad faces

and everyone

will tell 

the story 

later. Did you

see when

they shot

the clown. That

was supposed

to happen

someone quietly

said. They

were like

our flag of

feeling & I was.

I’ve been 

thinking it’s

time to apologize

to you. I was

holding a guitar

out & playing

us. This morning’s

light reminds

me of that

in my revolutionary

direction

winter and how

it loves

me as a dreamer

is loved

as everything should.

I was walking

us out onto

the ice with my

heart that

incessant

playing of mine

past when

everything is

wrong. She will 

find me

again I

murmur

in this

time I should

be doing more

you think

I would play

my guitar

at the front

if not

my clown

smile. The

bullet is

like being

told to sit

down. You are

too awkward

I was inviting 

you to

share your

gift

and you 

make a

mockery

of it. I wish

everyone 

had a gun

then I 

would be 

loved.