by Gil Hoy
Where is the iron
Brahmin, traitor
to his class,
Man of
The people---
You can’t cajole
You can’t frighten
You can’t buy?
With bones
stronger than
All of them
on the stage,
Please stop
the rain from
falling down.
It's time to rise up,
It's time to rise
up. It's time
to rise up!
Grit those big
teeth, hold
assassins’ bullets
in your chest,
Until you are
drowned out by
the faithful sea.
Listen to
the bells ring,
Listen to
the robin sing,
Until the hail
washes your soul,
away.
Gil Hoy is a Boston trial lawyer and writer. He studied poetry at Boston University, while receiving a BA in Philosophy and Political Science. Gil received an MA in Government from Georgetown University and a JD from the University of Virginia School of Law. He served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. His writing has appeared most recently in The Montucky Review, The Potomac, The New Verse News, The Boston Globe and The Dallas Morning News.