10.10.25

Two Poems by Stacy Black

No One is Allowed to be Anticapitalist

An animal born with old-timey bombs for eyes,
Little fuses already sizzling as he learns to walk
Through the dew. You're so lucky! 
Says a corpse born with $$$ for a smile
As an insincere utopian rises from an unmarked grave on Mars.


No One Looks Good in a Suit

A stabbing incident
Almost quaint compared to the shooting 
Laying bare nothing 
We didn't already know.
The will of the voters,
The thread and the needle, 
Etc.
Etc.
Etc. like a splatter of buildings
You can't find your way out of.