(Is it good? Does it want to move the way you want it to move?)
It's not at all graceful; it shakes as it's led
By the tug at its ankles and the pull at its head
If there's so little change, well it doesn't complain
That most passers-by are unmoved, once again
And then there's the hand waving above it
The hovering span on the strings that coerce it
To stagger and stumble across the old mat
And that pockets the coins as they fall to the hat
There are course jigs and reels in this wooden doll's dances
A dragging of heels to the indifferent glances
Tottering turns and returns to the box
The sham-merry tunes and the click of the locks
Today as the puppet obeyed its control bars
I saw a new crowd with their tents and their banners
Above them the balconies filled up with laughter
Filled up with Gucci, Armani and '99 Taittinger
They stared at the masses that flowed past beneath them
They preened and they pointed; mocked and waved over them
And the marchers held fists up in weary defiance
As if tugged on by strings in a marionette dance
Well, it's call and response in these pepper-sprayed dances
Force and resistance; retreats and advances
The puppets refuse to return to the box
Or the sham-merry tunes or the click of the locks