[NYCSPITZ]

Witness an old man lay back, questioning the purpose of fate
His daydreams drift, skyward at university lake
Said he’d return once he finished what he needed to do
Checking in to give his life a last feeble salute

- 1968…

The chair of Poli-Sci gazes down from floor six of this Parisian school
Eye darting a mesmeric dance, staring at the square’s collegiate pool
Precocious 30 something. Everything that he believes is rule
So he crumples the letter in his hand sent from this chief of fools:
‘Jean – your last published work was…poignant. But several sections are brash
I must prohibit distribution of this text to your class
An ounce of self-formed virtue balances hate and gallons of strife
The Iron Heel morphs according to how you value your life
...sowing chaos only makes destruction quicken to haste
Signed, Alain. Head of the Council for Curriculum Change.'
Bearing teeth he grimaces, ready to fight for the win
Who knows more about social systemic cycles than him?
Europe West during the hippie craze with nihilist hints
feudal sects keeping people sated with violence within
these titles for rulers can change but the designs are akin...
just look at the world, live it and ask the silence within –

- 1971…

His voice booms in the lecture hall while looking grand in a suit
“Wherever change is needed, the revolution's in the hands of the youth!”
Adjusting his beret, the eccentric professor stands and salutes
eye contact, first row – she’s got ass and she’s cute
Latte, post-class. Topic: how freedom of speech sucks and it’s soft
dinner and black and white movies and a fuck in his loft
she’d whisper sweet nothings. He’d temper his bottled rage to a fault
then say the smartest kids in France needed to stage a revolt
She’d bring her crew. At cafes - they'd use fancy terms to label their wants
they spoke with coffee, curse words, and bagels and croissants
then one day she stood – sweetly stating it perfectly clear
“We’re gonna take the campuses of all the Universities here”
They hung signs, locked doors and sang of freedom for days
just them, their youthful zeal and police barricades
after a week, police were commissioned to break and enter the forts
arrest and handcuff every single student member with force
she stood firm at the door while all the others squirmed with surprise
and though absent, his idealism still burned through her eyes
filled with life, potential and beauty – but passion was dulled
when the police baton swung down and bashed in her skull
when he heard, he sat silently in muted surprise
as teary friends spoke of light’s loss in the blue of her eyes
he stood on the bridge for hours. Nearly leapt in the Rhine
walked to school with his head down, softly wept and resigned

- 2015...

reality's a symphony of morals for those weighing the sounds
your own life triumphs over analyzing the play of the crowd
so he thinks it aloud - finally letting go his virulent song
... he comes to terms, closes eyes and drifts into the beyond.



.