Poetry Is Revolution Yes It Is Yes It Is Poetry Is Revolution

POETRY IS REVOLUTION  YES IT IS  YES IT IS  POETRY IS REVOLUTION

POWER TOWER:  A Dynamite Song

america, you crazy mother country.

your rounded television culture people 

moving throu the hardedge

legal & business world.

assination a daily diet

of madness.

OH ANDY WARHOL

we pray for you. for political candidates

everywhere.

your hardass television commercial

business world. "what's good for plastic

is good for the U.S.A."

your blindness to the evil & poverty

around you.

OH SUBURBIA! 

they'd have a revolution

& you wouldn't know

until daddy came home from work

or you turned on the color tube.

soon they'll have all your fingerprints.

steal your dreams. traded

for new cars, swimming pools

fancy address.

OH GHOST OF BOBBY HUTTON

don't fall for the white man's dream.

his nightmare is waking up the world

soon all the bells will be ringing

                                richard krech

                    Mythology for the Peoples

                                Liberation

Work/5, anthology of poetry and revolution is available from Artists Workshop Press

1510 Hill, Ann Arbor, Mich 48104. Send $1.00 to get your copy, don't be unarmed.

a fable:

THE DROUGHT, & HOW THE RAINS CAME

there aren't any keys anywhere,

i went to the locksmith

& he said so

i went to the jewler

& he said so too.

so i went to the priest

& he said ask the politician

who said ask god

who said in a deep voice

my sun.

                "grow your own."

horoscope: during revolutionary

                       activity commerce will

                       be disrupted.

the fighting has begun.

they have already attacked.

don't turn in yr. gun.

                    richard krech

REVOLUTIONARY LETTERS

           Diane Di Prima

Number One 

I have just realized that the stakes are myself

I have no other

ransom money, nothing to break or barter

       but my life 

my spirit measured out, in bits, spread over

the roulette table, I recoup what I can

nothing else to shove under the nose of the

           maitre de jue

nothing to thrust out the window, no white

                flag

this flesh all I have to offer, to make the play

                 with

this immediate head, what it comes up with,

                 my move

as we slither over this board, stepping always

(we hope) between the lines