Benjamin Schmitt’s poetry has been published in Solo Novo, Otis Nebula, Splash of Red, The Write Place at the Write Time, The Pacific Review, The Chaffey Review, and elsewhere. His first book was published in 2013 by Kelsay Books. It is entitled The global conspiracy to get you in Bed. He currently lives in Seattle with his wife where he teaches workshops to both children and adults.
We were radicals
In days before we fell
burying thoughts of ourselves,
we were radicals
late nights filled
with the coffee and nicotine making rude gestures
as we quoted Bakunin
and the Dead Kennedys.
Planning the overthrow of capitalism
in between games on the Nintendo 64,
we drank wine out of boxes and squatted
in abandoned houses. Some of us were loud
and arrested for our ideas, I wrote a letter
to the governor of Idaho
claiming I had evidence he was a dolphin
having sex with monkeys. It was hard not to laugh
when the secret service interrogated me,
asking if I wrote the letter with the signature
“Jimmy, who likes to take it up the ass.”
There were nights when the cops chased us,
we ran through ditches, zeal glinting off streams.
The enormities seem so malleable,
but it is the manageable which resign us.
There are so many bars
I have been tossed out of,
stumbling home with my unspent money
leaning on a hot dog for support.