"we danced the anarchist waltz"
with the stereo humming apocalyptic tunes
we danced the anarchist waltz
listened to presidential addresses
fire alarms and campaign speeches
stock lines, financial updates
marked down-dates (days)(as if you knew)
and homeland security programs
we pissed on them all...
spoke about democracy
and blood running
and open mouths
about beautiful eyes
and crumpled old yellow paper
and dead people...
long lines of the empty
and lost souls (they're not dead yet, nikolai)
and tired hands
and old hands
and an open hand...
and tree huggers (with/with-out negative connotation)
and empty parking lots
abandoned hollow buildings
and the smell of rain on your hands in may...
all the shirts you wore were red
the words you spoke were tiny (always with parentheses holding in bigger thoughts)
the times, you said, would be better
the people, you said, will learn (not the textbook kind either)
the tears on your face someday would be gone
where are you now, i can't breathe