Printed with permission from James Tracy.
i’m always
suspicious
of parties
republican ones
democratic ones
green ones
red ones
old ones
first ones
third ones
my
infantile disorder
a simple love
of the people
that burns like
a ballot
stuffed
in a molotov cocktail
i have often
clamped
a clothespin
on my nose
and punched the chad
pulled the lever
but really i believe
that every cook
can govern.
behind every
“hi, can I take
your order?”
lies a
hidden analysis
hammers and nails
can build more than
luxury lofts
teachers aren’t the
reasons school fall apart
war is the
cardiac arrest of the state
junkies and crackheads
have names beside
junkies and crackheads
the rattle of spare change cups
might be the tune of a new
revolutionary song
robin hood
was not the only one
who was right;
harriet tubman
was right
the road to freedom
must sometimes be walked
with a rifle;
john brown
was right,
there is more to life
than what is painted white;
ricardo flores magon
was right,
borders are just scars;
lucy parsons
was right,
a woman’s place is
front and center
in this fight;
eugene debs
served his country
better from prison
than any president
has from the white house
the most important choices
we make
are on the days between elections
picketlines walked
homes unevicted
communities mobilized
cynicism conquered
empires deleted
meanings for once
not lost in translation
kindness given
love made
to that extent you know
we all vote every day
