Viva Le Revolutión

Red and rent is the sky this evening
hellish gloaming churned by blades-beating
the frantic air in search of those who won’t.

They huddle under bridge like insect-folk
sharing the warmth of revolution freely
with others who simply will not.

The boots of those who will approach
but hurry on their errand of autocracy
it’s time to punish all of those who haven’t.

The insect-folk sing sing-along songs
and laugh at those who did
How could they do so easily?

They creep on softly padding feet
towards a time that is mirage-imaged
a time that shimmers black and gone

That lumbering earth-rattler; the gun of will
approaches with its dollar-barrel trained
upon those who won’t.

Bangyourdead.