The Revolution
Took place through commercial breaks, most sets
Muted to the music of calamity; they
Say time runs, while inertia waits; Space-
Man sat, silent and safe from humanity. The
Garden grew green with vanity and profanity  –
All that she commanded was a weeding and a seeding –
Sanity spilled from every tree bleeding till at long
Last we collapsed out the canopy.
Fantasy Super Bowls were broadcast to masses who
Watched robotic passes on Panasonic displays with
Precise enough a picture to witness ice on the grass, mask-­‐
like atop the AstroTurf's animatronic blades.
Word to phonics, they turned to comics to learn of commas and
Electronics with red-­‐dotted checks to spell them A's, racing
Supersonic down the Information copy-­‐pasting – in the
Age of Entertainment, slackademics made the grade. 
Prophet blogs cautioned of dark lives and sharp knives,
Butchers carved lies to scar the populace tame; Truth
– too sour to swallow or stomach now – was
Candy-­‐coated with soma and band-­‐aided their brains.
All the men and women with brand names in their veins would
Rep a trend until death or till fans labeled it lame – and
Every face blank, the angst and spray-­‐paint
Replaced with statuses of dramatic worded dismay; from 
Passengers on a plane to passages on a page, a
Massacre to a memory, 9/11 was made, and
Finally was erased with the databases of congress –
Anonymous played a hatchet and hacked away at the frame.
Anonymous played a hatchet and hacked away at the frame.
Anonymous placed politic hacks on top of the chain.
The Land of the Free was handed the key, and slammed it shut,
So the streets took a stand on her feet. 
What an eye-­‐full: high sea survival;
Pirates abandoned ship, expanded bandwidth, ripped
Files, and demanded free shit from their idols; the
Injured industries died, not a revival. But
Sharers never cared to trust government rivals who just
Lie like they wanna trouble disciples – tell them it
Warrants a sin to torrent the bible; tell them what it
Warrants when you give a soldier a rifle; tell them if it
Warrants a war when the poorest of poor foreigners
Forced to fork it over form forces and swarm

That's just what happens when backs get stabbed, coroners
Called for casualties of Capture the Flag; and
While the gravity defiant knocked heaven's door till
Knuckles were sore, some stayed stuck on the porch:
The Land of the Free was handed the key, and slammed it shut,
So the streets took a stand on her feet.
 
They screamed: ‘Fuck a dream of prosperity, we promise to
Make you wish Washington never chopped his father's cherry tree! We’ll made a movement out of misery, scorch every
City to entombment with the torch of Lady Liberty,
Lividly hammer her knees for scamming the weak, leave her
Stranded without a bandage, so the bandit’ll bleed in front of
Cameras for pussies on other planets to see the one
Nation under God, been abandoned’ – You see.. 
Technology was thee philosophy, and rocketry had
Gotten optimized enough to colonize a farther reach of
Spots across spacetime – Milky Way Monopoly –
Drop a stake in Mars, make a clock, and claim it property.
But all this new advancement came at quite a cost, such a
Privilege for the proper never offered down in poverty,
So every class and every caste who could afford it blasted
Off and out the orbit of the Earth without apology.
A bit astonishing, but not beyond imagination –
Venus was a vacation, Eden was in degradation:
Snakes slithered rampant on an appetite of apples, even
Eve was tramping, Adam had her camping by the chapels; 
Ignorant chattel in digital shackles vibrantly
Cast shadows before a Binary Tower of Babel,
Cowering cattle drowned in sounds of pitiful prattle, mixed
With the snapping of Shit's Rapids ripping through paddles, mixed
With the cold whisper of war’s bitterest battles, mixed
With the raucous of robots' vividest tackles, mixed
With the clipped crackle of witches' wickedest cackles – death
Rattles rang hard as the clapping of gavels. 
So some sayonara’ed to their castles made of plastic,
Buried all the past in a holographic casket, and
Shuffled out the basement to safe silence,
SpaceMan muffled the flame, muzzled the riot.
 
Revolution transmits on a signal so subtle, one
Struggles to hear one muddled mutter of amnesty
Beneath the canopy, an animal family huddles,
Sipping the blood from a puddle of sanity.
The Motherland’s in trouble, city jungles lay in rubble
Folks afloat in hopeless bubbles hover, shuttle-­‐hungry for
Something in the Hubble to suggest someone’s coming; been
Generations running on the hollow hum of Nothing.
Generations running from a hollow gun of Nothing. 
Here is a video of Ben performing the piece. It is a little rough as this was the first time the piece was ever performed and there were some technical difficulties, but the delivery is powerful nonetheless.
The Canopy
Published:

The Canopy

The Canopy is a collaboration between artists Holden Better (drawings) and Ben Benjamin (words). Originally intended to be just a spoken word pie Read More

Published: