Take It Back

put your finger in it
like a shark-toothed gingerbread house

get out on the street
despite the absence of your French Symbolist poets

plant a fucking seed
quit buying shit you don’t need

chant: one plate
one fork, one cup
one spoon

give the rest away freely
surrender your wants to impoverished indigence

use a laser to cut squares from the sky
let down the stars
to lay waste

to the inhuman consciousness
bent on ensnaring, enslaving
the free spirit of creative forces

to shatter 
and shove
black reptilian oaths
vowed in penthouse palaces
back up their 
vile asses

take it back
channel the anarchy
born of the womb

there is only one color 
hotly coursing under the skin
uniting us all

it is wine, the red wine of 
love
it is blood
it is ours.

 

 

Jay Passer

Jay Passer's poetry first appeared in Caliban magazine in 1988, alongside the work of William S. Burroughs and Wanda Coleman. He is the author of 15 collections of poetry and prose and his work has been included in several anthologies as well as print and online publications worldwide. A debut novel, Squirrel, was released in 2022. A lifelong plebeian, Passer has labored as dishwasher, barista, soda jerk, pizza cook, housepainter, courier, warehouseman, news butcher and mortician's apprentice. Originally a native of San Francisco, Passer currently resides in Los Angeles, California. His latest collection of poems, Son of Alcatraz, released in 2024 by Alien Buddha Press, is available from Amazon.

 

Edited for Unlikely by Jonathan Penton, Editor-in-Chief
Last revised on Monday, December 12, 2016 - 21:40