The Theory of Revolution by Steven Lazaroff

Prelude to a Theory of Revolution


The stones crown through soil.

We swallow the broken rocks

back down into soil like a world child

stolen back to womb, Too soon,

we say. Change is inches, we say.

We say, change is incremental,

we say. But are we cold to the hot

addicted & tattered & hungry

streets that only our feet touch?


Is there a, a,

‘a’, singular

massive monolith

revolution with etched face

rushing past roots, begging —

no, demanding — liberté,

égalité, fraternité? I don’t know. I hope. I play.


Read the rest of Steven Lazaroff’s revolutionary poem in – SN6: MAYDAY ON AMAZON