O Beloved Activist!

You’re 
the best .50 caliber
megaphone ever to bark
a slogan

You’re the most fun
anyone ever had
at a Molotov cocktail party

You’ve forgotten more
about posterboard
than most will ever know

You adore Sisyphean tasks
the way a teenager
adores every orgasm

You come running for a riot
with a sharp sense of gas
and tears and when you slump
as they arrest you
it’s like the Pieta come alive

Oh you
pretty much define my cause
and straight up come correct
like a jaguar intent on the reason
you were made

If it’s wrong to love you
for the speed with which you rage
I guess I’m wrong
for the righteousness
and if it’s righteousness I’m wrong for
I’m wrong for you

for you are opinion
and reaction and knowing
and making a life out of decisions
and clearing a path
and if that’s not worth a look or two of love
then call me the blind
waiting for the blind
to lead