maybe not revolution, but its possibility
hope springs eternal and all that
and if hope dies then drudgery and
only motioning, shallow breath in the screaming room
rote life
wander at walls but no resistance to push
revelation on the brink of the mind, surging past the event horizon into glassy intergalactica
grab the tail of the donkey and squeeze, ready is the tacky red eye
sleepless and free
hilarious possibility
unfocussed charmed begrudgery
looking for an armory
terrible voices in harmony
brave and decent and naive
wondering: now
now?
(a nod)
not yet
thegoodbadpeople 