When The Revolution Comes
May 19 2004
When the revolution comes
they round up the poets first.
Because there is something suspicious about words,
even to stiff men, in dark glasses
who are immune to irony.
And anyway, not much inclined
But they forget that the word never dies,
and that poets are vain
And just how much could a poet hurt
the coup d’etat,
with his harmless armamentarium
of blank verse, and a few blank pages,
of nonsense words, and sentimental phrases
about setting suns
or love undone
or kingdom come,
against well-honed steel
and point-blank guns?