#119, January 2, 2007

Of Rustics and Proletarians

Wordsworth’s rustics

and Marx’s proletarians

vie for our attention,

but we have moved on

to other world historical forces.

We no longer hear their voices;

we have our own identities to cater to,

and these will not be framed

in reference to what we are not

– what we are not is that loser

who refuses to leave the stage

– exit stage right, why don’t you?

Just because he won’t leave

doesn’t mean we should look at him.

The rustic is grunting

and dumping a turd center stage,

and the prole is staging a protest

against theater management.

The audience is not amused.

The theatergoers have paid

for the freedom for these folk.

Should they not be repaid

with respect and peace?

What are we to expect next?

Will one of these willful spirits

from so many past and failed revolutions,

these assailed revolutions,

turn to the audience and open wide his coat

flashing us a sickly grin

and showing us the detonator

of our fragmentary future?

And when we feel the thud of impact

will our last word be “Loser!”

And will we still believe

we cannot be defined

by what we are not.