The Heroes of the Revolution

lie clean, jagged,
in umbrage, quiet, well-
behaved, bullet holes battered

like the holes in the tricolor.

the heroes of the revolution
rot in the minds of the
bored generation, and they don't
come back, they don't rise.

the heroes of the revolution
died for nothing, for an idea,
the truth but the truth
came to nothing.

it sank.

mama, tata, bunica, bunicu,
fratele and sora clamped their
mouths shut -

but in the winter of '89
they walked into the December freeze
with a gun pressed to their back
and carried on walking
towards the sky grey
and the building illuminated
blue yellow and red.