It will be led by Dilbert.
He will begin at his office by
tossing the pointy-haired boss out the window
and, swinging a letter opener in the air,
declaring the seventeenth floor a workers’ paradise.
He will then slash through the bottom of panel four
dropping on to Snoopy’s dog house, where,
through a broad-based leafleting campaign,
he will whip the Peanuts into a revolutionary fervour
ousting Charlie Brown’s cruel canine food rations
and Lucy’s abusive monopoly on psychiatric consultations.
The uprising will spread across page D 12.
The members of the Family Circus will
break from their coffee-mug prison
and rally with Calvin and Hobbes
and Marx and Engels
on the spacious lawns of Capitol Hill
that lie nestled in the upper right hand corner
of Doonesbury’s third panel.
Finally, the funny page revolutionaries
will tear down all the borders and titles and by-lines
and with the pieces build one large panel
in which they will gather
chanting and dancing
throwing their three-fingered fists in the air.
And we will chuckle to ourselves
folding them up and sliding them
into our purses and overcoats
as we squeeze into the subway train,
the winter chill clinging to our ears and socks.
We’ll pull our collars up to the cold
smudging new wardrobes with the dark ink of the revolution
and cursing our misfortune,
wondering what on earth we will wear to work tomorrow.
from the July 2006 issue of High Altitude Poetry and the October 2006 edition of memewar
read more of my poems from HAP here.
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