30 Poems in 30 Days: The din of revolution (27/30)

Posted by Daniel Stout on Wed 27 Jun 2007 at 10:40 PM

27 June 2007

The din of revolution
by Daniel R Stout

I heard the din
of revolution
on the street below.
The mob swayed
and flowed.
The sound of
glass breaking
punctured
the air.
Where are the
death squads
from the Bureau
of Alcohol, Tobacco and
Firearms?
Shouldn’t they be
assassinating every
last illegal immigrant?
I spit out my chew
and take a swig of Jack.
I raise my shotgun
to the window ledge.
The streetlights streak in
leaving trails of vibrancy
across the Confederate
flag on the wall.
I take one shot. Then two.
Didn’t hit a damn thing.
The throng below doesn’t seem
to notice regardless.
I will pray for the souls
of Dick Trickle,
Dick Cheney
and Dick Van Dyke
because if it weren’t
for dicks like me
there wouldn’t
be sense in the world.

Tags: 30 poems in 30 days · poem · poetry

This weblog is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Validation: XHTML 1.0 Strict • CSS 2.1 • Atom 1.0