Pack Light

Go to come back.
Again and again,
through the Gates.
Pack light:
the weight of Conscience
is limitless.

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needs must

”The Poor”
How easily the classification slips
Through mind to lips, definitive,
Beyond regret and sorrow
Resignation
For ye have the poor with you always
Here endeth the lesson:
Today’s fact of life; tomorrow’s imperative
Yesterday was inevitable
And needs must when
Whole industries have been created to sustain
A spectator sport. Entry fee: hand-wringing
As the meek shall inherit
It was written

Stencilling

Generations of Revolution:
Stencilled shadows;
The traced punctuation of fealty to forgetting
And wistful recovery.
Ranting for melodrama;
Tinkering at the edge of increment
And, always, the bitten hand that feeds.

Like a yesterday

“We want change”
Wants it like yesterday
Like it has nothing to lose.

But it already came:
They were the change
They wished to see

And it looked like
Tomorrow lost to a history.

Overkill

They built the stage and you came.
[By any other name you’d will it.]

Wish your fill.
Mine salt for your visionary tears.
Let them spill in the trenches
And build banks of rage. They will come.

And you have to go over the top.
And you had to go over the top.

A world at your fingertips;
Hell on the tip of your tongue.