The Old Means of Insurrection Won’t Work

You take out one brick,
Replace it with books.
Take out a few bricks,

Replace them with looks,
Smoldering stink-eyed
Glares from the border

Of the circular
Sick crew, churning well.
Take out the last looks,

Suspecting you’ll give
Up right about now,
But to your surprise

Find yourself ready
To take on a fight
On the books’ behalf,

The behalf of bricks,
Of anything used
To store dangerous

Intel on the world.
The world needs to know
Rather less these days

Than more. Put a brick
Back on the bookshelf.
There’ll be no ending,

Or it will be quick.
When no books are left,
Take out a fresh brick.