I Want to Join the Resistance

I Want to Join the Resistance
but it may not exist.
No one has theology bombed the parishes
where beauty is tortured.

I've sheltered the refugees from time to time,
but no one from the Resistance has contacted me,
it may not exist.

It is not as if it is hard to escape
the clutches of the mediocre,
you can just walk away
and head for Omales,
the valley in Colorado or other Shangra-las.

But, the Matrix is all around us,
the guilt chip has been implanted,
saving them the need to track you,
which they don't, actually, as any in pain discover.

I want to join the Resistance,
and breath the tangy air of adventure,
sleeping under the stars,
perhaps not alone,
caring that deeply, and suffering for real,
and knowing my commitment matters,
but it may not exist.

Where are they?
Many have walked away,
but they lick their wounds in private
but why should we walk away
and abandon the terrain of sacredness to the developers.

Like all tyrannies,
the Hierarchy succeeds
because they succeed,
and no one can speak of the distance
between what they say and what they do,
no one can permit themselves to see
because then they would have to join the Resistance,
and that thought can't exist.

The Resistance would keep the log of tortures
doctrines used as a weapon
the purity purges
the catalog of assumptions
taught hatreds,
and devise tactics to thwart it all.

The Resistance would know
that now is only history by different means,
and remember
the rampaging monks,
physical pain,
divisions,
the bishops getting blown by nuns
the clergy extorting funds

The Resistance would always be there
with a word to the suffering,
a wink providing the thrill of hope,
and holding the dream of a new world.

The Resistance would
find a place for my specialty,
waging war on the anti-intellectual
and I'd plan the raids on the locked warehouses,
behind the enemy lines
where the gifts of sex lie in Lysol scented shelves.

The Resistance would,
but it may not exist.