It was chaos all over
Revolution, the kind that rains
Emotions through crowded streets
Was now in forward flow.
They shouted for the little man
That democracy forgets, and
Looted the capitalist joints,
And there was entropy,
Everywhere you looked.
And inside a hotel room
Around the corner from the revolution.
There was another revolution taking place.
A young man caught up in a different
Kind of entropy, pulled the curtains in
And let a woman, carve him through
Like a butcher’s knife. That moment
Came too soon, like a jolt of lightning
Or a unannounced storm, and pulled
Him through his own fault lines.
And they were both countries on their own right,
Both sovereign, and all it took was anger
And lust, two states of entropy,
To spur on the kinetic energy, running through their veins.
The roads were empty by nightfall
And so was the hotel room.
There were graffiti on public walls
And creases on a bed cloth
And so, two stories were inked
On pages of history.
The young man walks into the night
Whistling a familiar song by the band Journey,
How her arms were open to his,
And how their bodies met like palms in prayer
Nostrils making strange noises
Buoying on the crackling noise
Of two kerosene flames.
And revolutions, they stay on
Like colonial street names. And that young man
Walks past a cafe, his body too sore to realize,
What it took for his own revolution,
The democracy of flesh relations.
And the ballot of love.
And inside a dust bin in a hotel room,
Was a used condom, symbolic
Of the revolution.
His ballot box counted one.