moldy motheaten papers
crumble yellow edges,
promising concepts deliberated by the Assemblage House,
where the People convene, repudiate,
charge Him
to bring the curtain down upon the judges
gradually, spotlights warm the worms
cohabiting beneath window sills,
where we were compelled to watch the brown army team teargas, parachuting
through helicopter smoke, billowing
as legs and breath remain rooted
melting into rock,
history’s lesson is disregarded
war chests dissolve,
empty hollow rhythms
slamming against one another-
truth hits hard against them all
here and now, outlaw protestations
beg to be orated, for
imploring stares no longer can be ignored
it is best to ride this wave out
before the next plastic curtain
strangles our generational wagon,
before deeper corrupted judges decide
some other destiny for us all