OCCUPY PRINCETON
I have landed two feet away from something
I cannot recognize. My own fair Heaven now
has fallen from outside my hands. This is
a town I recognize, and a place I've come
to know : the white of the daylight forces
me on, where people are lined in the square.
A few catcalls, no more. The new motif
is gather and protest and noise. I don't
know. I don't really hear the roar - but
for the closing, incendiary and wild, of
those great, iron bank doors slamming
hard, slamming shut. Everything that
is claimed is stolen, and everything
that is stolen is claimed.
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