To Mark Fisher with love

I was too fragile and bourgeoisie for occupy never got arrested thought

the pussy hat would be the new

peace sign thought black lives

would bring the dead panthers back but I can groove on

Acid communism feel like you knew me as a kid in Worcester watching Abbie Hoffman's funeral from my college window

asking my English Lit professor who's the bigwig with all the limos

Just another suicidal

revolutionary burned out before

they could pass the torch

I know we've tripped Phildickian in drug free future memory you died

In 2017 the year this hippie heart put down the love beads and got radical this banker poet went to grad school knew they could never punch a nazi but they might fight the power with harm reduction fight the system within the system

Knew they had to do something for all the lost boys and crazy girls of all colors for all the poets and addicts for all the galvanization of madness into action because doing nothing was anything but sane and now they keep the keys but want to unlock all the artists hold a rave in the asylum a drug free dream trip of what we need to call your ghost back to dance with the 13 indigenous grandmothers to bring back what we need to

imagine to have hope to be healed