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,
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