After The Revolution, We All Agreed To Agree

When at last
we’d overthrown 
what we’d let become
a bloated squid feasting
upon our heads,

we reeked so badly
it wasn’t long before 
we swooned, fainted, 
passed into a fog of stench
and fell into sleep

as deep as the one
which had given the squid
its opportunity.  This time,
however, we all held hands
as we dozed, secure

in the knowledge that 
whatever came next,
it would be our very own.  

And it was —
it was our own new squid we woke to,
our own stink weighing us back down.