Occupied Beauty
(after Gerard Manley Hopkins’s “Pied Beauty”)

 

Glory be to those who topple things—

For tents of triple-color, for the canvas town;

For froze-proles all in trouble, jostled crowd, that din;

Enmeshed firearmed chests; falls, pinches, stings.

Parks drum-spotted and pieced—hold! hallowed, and now;

Their barricades, their gear, their tackled limbs.

 
All things counterstrike and strike, resistant shared rage;

Whatever is mic-checked, heckled (you? why now?)

With swift, summed, steep power; dazzling whims;

The gathered source of beauty: past-due change;

Blaze. Win.

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