Poetic Coup Part I (Inspired by Espada's Republic of Poetry)
Part I Toe the Line
I once had a dream and in that dream I was dreaming a dream much more vivid than the previous. It was a dream of change. A vision without indifference to the way we think, interact or conduct ourselves in the face of the world. Our nation was to be reformed while under siege. Poets of long since passed rose from the dead and joined forces with their reincarnates. A coalition was formed of poets past and present with one objective; A poetic coup. I was there when it happened. Air became heavy, so heavy I witnessed my own breath hit the floor. Quiet, intense quiet surrounded my house; my village. Suddenly from anywhere or nowhere thunder began to shake my abode and others as well. I ran to my window to witness what I was sure would be my destruction. My instincts to face my fear came just in time to witness massive grey clouds parting in the sky as Walt Whitman (now a General with the coalition) rode through them on a white horse named Cain. He halted his mighty beast just above my village, drew a scroll from his sachel and began to Command his Declaration of Consciousness. His voice roared with the distinction of a starved lion as he ran down his list. "Thou shall show an acceptance of others. Thou shall not repeat history. Thou shall not treat the Constitution as an inanimate ordimant", and so on and so on. Upon completion of Whitman's address, Lieutenant Espada stepped forward and commanded every poet in the village to step out of their house and toe the line. "We the Poetic Coalition will be fighting the war against opportunism on many fronts, and are anxiously awaiting your enlistment. We are looking for a few good poets who are not afraid to endure social reprocussions while serving as a catylist for change. I sincerally hope you will consider, for in you do upon victory you shall be rewarded not with a New World Order but a New World. A world who's perspective is that what you make of it."
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