Kurt R.A. Giambastiani

Can you hear it?

in the dark of sleepless nights
the pop of baton-starred windows
the piercing whistles of warning
the tear-choked cries of “Shame!”

Can you?

through the oily drumbeats
the thumping of heartless chests
the empty heads nodding at golden tributes
the apotheosis of clowns

I can.

from the massed rumbling of voices
the rising sirens of dissent
the crackling of crumbling facades
the electric hum of investigative light

Just listen.

to its wheezing, wet and panicked
its whimpers echoing down shadowed halls
its spittle-flecked lips mouthing repurposed slogans
its ancient rage bubbling up, phlegmy and thick

Know what it is?

it’s the death rattle of the ruling class
the final breaths of discordant power
twitching in spasmodic bursts of violent hate
as the people stand up and prepares to march ahead

Time for change.