Arsonist.

by A.V. Koshy

You can set a car on fire.
You can storm a university.
You can storm a woman's heart and
set the jewel between her thighs on
fire.
But the layered sediment of history -
the aristocracy and the serfs -
survives in subtle ways
escaping this desire of yours
to be an arsonist
set fire to poems and words
break the glass casements of government windows
occupy city squares and cancer cells
drive something or some evil out
while being free
carnivalesque, Rabelaisian, Bakhtinian
at least once in your life
as if it all costs - the broken things - nothing
except everything
and as if Marx was right
for at least
once
in his and your waning,crummy
life.