In dealing with the State, we ought to remember that its institutions are not aboriginal, though they existed before we were born: that they are not superior to the citizen: that every one of them was once the act of a single man: every law and usage was a man’s expedient to meet a particular case: that they all are imitable, all alterable; we may make as good; we may make better.
Still the still, small voice, but also such
an unassuming sound of underbrush upon approach.
Often it’s only after they enter the clearing
and unfurl that we look up to see what’s coming.
The American Dream has been stolen from the world. Workers are told that they aren’t allowed health care, shelter, food. Students are told that they aren’t allowed jobs, and that they will be in debt for the rest of their lives, unable to declare bankruptcy. The 1% has destroyed this nation and its values through their greed. The 1% has stolen this world. We will not allow this to occur.
if you bite me in the ear, I will knee you in the nuts:
if you do something nice for me, I will feel encouraged to do
something nice for you: fight on my side, we fight together:
We, the naturally hopeful,
Need a simple sign
For the myriad ways we’re capsized.
We who love precise language
Need a finer way to convey
Disappointment and perplexity.
For speechlessness and all its inflections,
For up-ended expectations,
For every time we’re ambushed
By trivial or stupefying irony,
For pure incredulity, we need
The inverted exclamation point.
¡Sí se puede!
A dream. A democracy. A savage liberty.
And yet another anthem and yet another heaven
and yet another party wants you.
Wants you wants you wants you.
Wants you to funk-a-pen funkapuss.
Wants you to anthologize then re-troop your group.
Hum, that utopian bindlestiff, leaves home for a house
pictures brought on by looks.
