Manifestos, prejudice and gleaming sedans
Are the Holy Trinity of the post-revolutionary diaspora.
There’s an interesting word: diaspora.
We’ve been fucking each other brown
Since we slithered out of the soup
And while the sons of the revolution ride on horseback
The daughters of the revolution stay at home
Tending babies and bank accounts
And now what motivates me
To walk down dark halls
Leads others to pick up the gun.
Its got the weight to change history.
The caliber of weaponized words.
We hate each other.
Here, take my hand,
I’ll show you how…