Thursday, August 11, 2016
The authorities declared the only street in town
As a result you couldn’t get back!
Unless you negotiated a maze of dirt roads,
and tangled Indian Paths.
Which we did in good humor, often in conversations with fellow pilgrims.
When the authorities got wind of the camaraderie, they stationed police and Guardsmen to funnel us back,
silently, to the main street.
Then the joke became you had to circumnavigate the globe to return home.
A whole genre of Anti-Official scorn and humor
Got back to them, and they raised a far barrier so nobody could leave town.
Held a public meeting there.
We killed them all at it, the One-Way signs flung on the bodies.
Then celebrated. Dancing!
When the old and children left, it became Dionysian.
When Freedom finally comes, it can take that form.