Tag Archives: anarchy

Reign XV

It was always two minutes to midnight
In our world, this green valley turned metal.
The promises broke like glass, bright and sharp,
Each point of light another jagged edge.
Leopard print and sequins aren’t Tyrian,
But in your hands, they are greater than gold
(The shame was never in going naked,
Only in blindly insisting you weren’t.)
“No gods, no masters, every man a king.”
We preached our creed with every breath we took,
Every night spent beating back entropy.
The world was ending, but we were dancing.
With pen and ink, blood and bone, I proclaim
The coronation of King No Future.

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Reign VIII

Only in blindly insisting you weren’t
A sellout did you give up and proclaim
Your turning, your protean self, about-
Faced, crippled and lame, broken and shamed.
For every starving artist, I have known
One well-fed: a singer-psychologist,
A poet-professor, people who owned
It, blending their art and artifice
In equal measure. Poor as I am, I
Do not starve, for I am rich in spirits.
Narcissism and rage are my bread, my
Water my own voice and all who hear it.
Even if I starve, my muse will still sing:
“No gods, no masters, every man a king.”


Black Bloc

The night the city burned, I sat on your floor listening like a child as you told me our god must be Janus. A face for authority, for the frightened middle, and another for casting stones, for cleansing the temple. I’ve tried to learn the tenets of this new faith, but I am no Martin Luther, no prophet of peace. When I march, I march in black, a mourning hawk dressed in the fatigues of protest: hood marking me an adherent of the old ways, mask to keep out miasma, gloves so as not to leave a trace of my touch. My creed has only two lines: Fight for those who won’t raise their fists, work towards a world that does not need you.


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