No disrespect to Detroit’s brilliant,
Beleaguered, and recently drug-martyred poet –
But Gil Scott-Heron was wrong, wrong, wrong.
The revolution Has been televised
And trivialized,
Made almost antiseptic, it’s apocalyptic attempts
Co-opted, contained and commoditized.
Now showing, an exhibit at the MOMA,
A thrilling documentary about
Just plain folks in far away places, maybe,
Coveting our conventional “democracy”
Surely these young people in tents knew that
Last year.
Not far away, but here,
They are serving Ben and Jerry’s,
And endlessly updating their Facebook pages,
Considering the subjugation of women and discussing brands..
Where are the anarchists, now,
As billions change hands and borders flex,
And bodies go to ground (blood being the most productive crop this year)
The shadow of Theocracy
darkens, sinister, solidifies
And creeps into the catbird seat,
Directing an international conversion event
That had naught to do with God
Well-documented and almost unseen.
Whose revolution has this been,
Really?