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January 20, 2017

By Anthony Moll

After Adrienne Rich & Bertolt Brecht

We’re looking for that old revolutionary road again
a poet said we’d meet where the grass grows uphill

I couldn’t think of a better way to describe America
torch in one hand, scrolling through her smart phone with the other

Sauced on nostalgia, someone told me Columbia used to look
prettier—but ain’t beauty an idol too imprecise to adore?


A bell rings as the smash of trash can against a bank’s façade
asks me to be his wife, but the keepers shake their heads

The yes in me applauds a fascist bit by past-due fist
and every knuckle wonders why it shouldn’t do the same

Elsewhere the volksstrum are shown these scenes on repeat
shaken, sold fustian and magazine-fed pitchforks


Remember to grasp your revolution at ten and two
the streets are slick and she pulls slightly to the right

Select character: money-changer, table, prophet
dove, disciple, chief-priest, scribe

Young men in black tell me this isn’t a goddamned game
I sing back half-remembered lyrics from a rebellion adapted for screen

Added: Monday, July 2, 2018  /  Used with permission.
Anthony Moll

Anthony Moll is a Queer poet, essayist, and educator. His work has appeared in Baltimore City Paper, Gertrude Journal, Assaracus, jubilat, and more. Anthony holds an MFA in creative writing & publishing arts, and he is working toward a PhD in poetry and cultural studies. His debut memoir, Out of Step, won the 2017 Non/Fiction Prize from Ohio State University Press, and is available in July 2018.

Other poems by this author