A Russian bartender sleeps on a hilltop
Staring into an alley
That is itself a corridor into a bridge where there is no other side.
Meanwhile, the Bolivarians rally
Circling about and ensaring a group of fascists
Down on K street.
Indignados ride on the shoulders of their grandfathers
Men who fought alongside Orwell,
And lived what was then only an imagined reality.
And as this occurs, a scene opens on a man on a keyboard
Clapping and clicking
An unknown message transcribed
in the lap of a dark missionary buried somewhere
on this side of Atlantis.