Revolution Riders

There is a center walk
between the lanes
on the Roosevelt Boulevard
full of grass
trees
cars racing from
one light
to the next
stop, start
stop start

Dog walkers
center lane stalkers
watch
a human race for
concrete space
cardboard cubicles
watch
the giant clothespin
the old-money clip
liquid lunch
members-only club
windows with
black steel bars


There
servants and dogs
laid down with horses
stables in waiting
for the revolution riders
on the grass
riding fast
racing
from one lantern
to the next
start, stop
stop start

Across the pond
London burns
young men
shatter structures with
clothespin fire
yellow flamed
funeral pyres
anarchy rising
in the ashes of desire

We are the native-now
the enemy hide
in the luxury house
behind concrete walls
we own the center walk
the grass
the liberty tree
our faded history

Govern us with your
mad hatter tea parties
bailed-out bankers
laughing, counting
sell us a dream
at twenty-six percent
then steel it black
steal it back
start, stop
start stop

We are the upside-down
the sinking
under the grass
under the hooves
of revolution riders
start, stop
stop start
light the lantern way









Revolution Riders, A poem
by Rick Fisher @fishfire
Copyright 8/9/2011