Poems

Craig Kurtz: ‘The Love Song of Robespierre’

The Love Song of Robespierre Tout institution qui ne suppose pas le peuple bon et le magistrat corruptible est vicieuse. The aristocracy is gone— we’ve chopped the heads off the bon ton; we freed ourselves and then our slaves— that’s how the virtuous behaves. Jeunesse dorée, your time’s kaput— we’ve trampled birthright underfoot; we’ve made the world a better place— you are most welcome, human race. The haute monde have thrown in the towel— it’s time for some new statues now; we’ve made improvements to mankind, subtracting out those disinclined. We’ve rid the land of the genteel— instead we’ve people…

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