And Then You Were Thrown Up On

You and your lover are drunk on wine;

taking black and white photos
while listening to punk.

Black and white thoughts,
but gray where it matters.

A few snapshots later, you’ve
recreated all aspects of avant-garde.

Societal radiation emitting from
an imaginary anti-television revolution.

A staple pierced through the web of
skin between the pointer and thumb
stung with brilliant, artistic pain.

Anti-war poses were patriotic
in their American appearance.
Cushions fortified democracy and

a helmet on a cat protected children’s future.

After shared laughs, your lover climbs
into a cardboard box.

Like a cast ballot, folded,
trying to make a difference.