Revolution

Round and round, 
the grinning, gaudy horses 
galloping 
round and round
on the merry go round.

Round and round,
but the grins are faded now 
and the once bright horses 
drab and disheveled 
staggering and lurching.
Round and round 
on the treadmill 
of the merry go round.

Round and round.
Round and round.
Just one more revolution
and they'll be ready.
Ready
to bite the hands
that refused to feed them.

Round and round.
Round and round.
Only one more revolution,
to sharpen up the teeth. 
Round and round,
just one more revolution
on the not so merry go round.


Reprinted in Quail Bell 2016

First published in Ealain, Karma issue, December 2015


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