RevankistProductions

When I was a boy I asked my mom for a sister And for decades since then I’ve met her Again, and again, and again. And every time one of us is a disappointment. Or a failure. I remember the first time I had my heart broken. Little did I know that it was just the  Freudian tip of the iceberg. Everyone I’ve ever slept with has left me. But not you, my cackle-maned darling. And I could write the book on pissing off boyfriends. But not yours, my jet-locked little brat. When I was a boy I asked my mom for a sister. Imagine my surprise when I ended up with two.

Her face is young, but her eyes are weathered, Tethered to duty, beauty, and the call for what’s right. Life’s a journey, but sometimes it’s a fight, Sometimes it’s a hurricane and we’re a kite Dancing in its breath, bracing for death, Fighting for all that is left. But she knows who she is And so no one else can tell her, We’ll get to the top, one step at a time, Even if we have to do it together.

Capitalism is a false profit, They’ve lost it, lost in the sauce, Fake sources, so resourceful, Not remorseful, no morsels For mortals, just moral fixations, Downed like libations, Liberations are caught, We fought for the have-nots And got the snot shot out of us, Look what they’ve wrought, The bodies they’ve bought And buried, married to black bars Of censorship and redaction, All bark and no action, The red faction fashions the fascists And bashes the truth and the skulls Of the minorities, priorities Down the drain, the profane feign Care while they dare to tear Democracy, the hypocrisy’s So prevalent, ever evident, No sign of providence, Their provenance is the blood Spilled on stolen land, Both foreign and domestic, Terrorism is their language, The anguish is what they lavish, The ash is the ground on which We tread, the lives of which We dread, the truths from which We’ve read. History neither  Repeats, nor rhymes, it screams, This American dream is An American scheme, Teeming