Cobblestones
Cobblestones Not a single one of you is a fascist, Set as you are at the same level, None above any other in any way One of us walking would notice. Nor are you anarchists, for I believe I discern a pattern, though not A fixed one. It changes depending On where I’m standing. Maybe you’re communists, Cut and fit into shape for the good Of the whole, but possessing No individual qualities yourselves. I know what you want me to say. You want me to say that You’re a democracy. Look down! You shout. We're in the streets, aren't we?