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if you listen very hard
with your ears open wide
you may hear
above the hubbub of the crowd ...
...
an ideological soundfaction breaking cymbals
beating time with drumming heels
while strings of puppets
soar beneath a cloud ...
... an odd illogical sound
the brass is in the pockets
of old Marxists aged in beer
the conductor sells you tickets soaked in gin
the bassists are all loaded
on a platform dripping red
and the leader’s on a promise not to win ...
the harpist is in heaven
on a whisky cloud of dreams
far-and-wide-ing from the picket lines of rage
young fascists fed on loathing
form a squadron drinking fear
that tomorrow they’ll be dancing in a cage ...
... an ideological sound
... an odd illogical sound
... an ideal logical sound
... is silence
İHugh Wade 1996