Midnight's Broken Toe

The fantasy of revolution

Tickles inside and out

Like a butterfly in my stomach

An ant in my pant

It’s

A feeling

State of being

Way of seeing

Line of thinking

                        That I never fully

Express

Inhabit

Envision

Conceptualize

What do we want?

Whatever it is, THEY don’t want us to have it

Don’t want us to want it

So we dream, we wet our pants at the thought

Freedom, YES YES YES!

This and that or Death!

But when the shots ring out,

Where’s your

                     Vive la revolucion now?

                        It…

I mean, THEY

Are at work in the hotels, playing piano and serving you drinks

And in the garages fixing your cars

THEY are inside me, waiting for

The needle to

                    Drop

Waiting for that

                        Pop

The soft crackle

Of the vinyl

Waiting for the table to turn

Within me, we all yearn.

Televised or not,

The fantasy of revolution pulls like a knot,

A moon on tides

On my insides,

And out.

Posted in Rock n Roll byMidnightsBrokenToe at 03:26 AM Posted by: MidnightsBrokenToe at 03:26 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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