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The Manifesto of the Revelationary Army




I may not have the “right” but I have my orders.
From the Order of Righteousness.

My distrust fund is a wealth of unspent acrimony.
Rebel, surely, and be judged by that against which you choose rebellion.
Revoke the privilege of the chorus hiding behind other people's traumas.

All the fussy pissants ridiculing my fury with mellow rejoinders,
reducing my sacred rage unredressed with pedantic nitpicking—
damn their tepid blood! Drown them in a flood!

The Zombie Apocalypse happened a long time ago.
Even the most feted, stumbling under laurels, are disliked, hated,
for their implication that I'm ruined by what I don't want to know.

They exercise restraint, dare diminish my complaint,
depreciate the radius of my desire, the circumference of my desperation,
acting as though only the reasonable is feasible,

preaching that those who worship happiness will see happiness
in enlightenment rather than horror, than reduction
from the expansiveness of delusion.

I long as much for the casual destruction of enemies
as for the desperate salvation of love.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.