what are we doing revolution-wise?
or is the goal to go zig-zagging into the anonymous dream?
are we waiting for walk the line to arrive on DVD,
live our quiet lives vicariously through an actor playing a legend?
are we waiting for the next super bowl, keeping drinks on ice
and a pantry full of salsa and tortilla chips?
what have you done revolution-wise? other than telling the boss
to stick it, stuff your pockets full of lotto tickets,
and clench your fist while shuffling into the unemployment office?
last I checked, we got a curveball in the white house,
been there for the greater part of the decade, writing his own laws,
signing his own tickets, while his buddies get rich, richer
and the oil fields over there get hot, hot, hotter from the rising fires
and the academics get brainier, the drunks get drunker
and the methheads get empty in the head, in the skin, in the teeth,
you would think there would be someone raging at that,
some wild-haired gent or lass just seething at the audacity of all that:
fill in your blanks, folks, when was the last time the stars
danced for you, when you could get outside of the nine-to-five,
banned food day, boycotted happy hour at the seventh heaven
or drudged up a charity fund to get some of the negativity, the cobwebs
out of your just-trying-to-make-it-to-four-thirty frame-of-mind
it doesn't have to be cranky, you don't have to smash equipment,
but necessary, don't you think, called-for wouldn't you say?
let's not forget how we might get revolution-wise, open up the conversation,
breathe the real air, not the kind that's blowing by on the tv screen,
where we're captive, strapped to the chair, our eyes held open
by steel wires, where we're screaming inside, our mouths sealed shut,
alone, thinking, getting it, with no one to tell, with every chance to forget,
because we think we're dreaming after all, anonymously dreaming,
of being on film, changed and beautiful, wishing we could act revolution-wise.