a revolution in the air

the night sky was heavy with the aroma of gunpowder, but there was no revolution to be had. at least not this night.
what a strange thing to be celebrating though- some spanish dude trying to blow up the british parliament. good on him, i say. not that i've actually got any political opinions, but why not express yourselves if it means that one hundred odd years later we have the right to ignite fireworks and dress the heavens in gold and silver.
the crowd goes oooh
and aaah
and calix, witnessing his first lot of pyrotechnics was asking two questions:
where's his buddy max?
and was there any more?
who knows what acts of terrorism we'll be celebrating in years to come
xx
mama b
(perhaps one part green, one part anarchist)