Revolutionary Act

Come on, brother.
Drop the revolutionary act.

The way you speak,
Lately it’s so inexact.

It’s not that you’re faking it,
And it’s not that you’re wrong,
But those unwieldy sentences
Have been growing so long.

That shine in your eyes,
Like a missionary zeal.

Knowledge undefineable,
But you know how it feels.

And that failure of words,
Well, simply more proof,
Definitions of the past
Can’t contain the new truth.

So tear them all down,
These boundaries, these borders,

This Atlantis of meaning,
So deep underwater.

Why should you care
What wisdom lies dormant,
In the words of dead parents,
Dead sons and dead daughters?

In the mouths of the past,
One can find only shame,

Their lives like their teeth,
Dirty and decaying.

What possible worth
Could we wish to transcribe,
From ancient fools’ writings,
All Sun Gods and tribes?

Until yesterday
We were hopelessly stupid,

But not anymore,
Like an arrow from cupid,

You’ve got it! Eureka!
You’ve figured it out!
A modern-day soothsayer
To deliver us from doubt.

So when I ask questions,
Or stray from the path,

It seems only natural
That you point and you laugh.

A few must be sacrificed,
Obviously.
Throw from paradise those
Who chose not to believe.

Supporting evidence,
Of course, incontravertible,

So how dare they presume
To want to learn it at all?

They’re not worth convincing,
They’ll only sway others,
They’re stubborn, unflinching,
Ex-sisters, Ex-brothers.

Like statues, their minds,
Simple relics of the past.

Kill them quietly.

A clean new world come at last.

Written – June 2020

Published – June 2020

Image by Valentin Salja on Unsplash.