it’s new year’s eve,
let’s set the house on fire,
a respite from the fireworks,
the cheer and sweet kisses,
a shield for desperation -hopelessness,
lifetimes of cobbling together spare change
from thankless jobs.

let’s listen to music,
predicting the apocalypse,
anarchist revolution coming back,
desert rebels and cheap masks,
plastic laser guns and old comics,
signs of washed out revolutions.

and we’ll talk and wonder
-about our lives,
wash ourselves down the drains with
the blood red wine,
toast with triumphant roses,
rising with the bubbles
dreams encased until they drown and
pop.

can we call ourselves rebels,
revelling in the moonlight,
dancers under stars,
wrapping ourselves around our bodies,
to the music,
the champagne,
the thankless year’s,
as they go on and on.