A new preamble —

We the people

           growing more pissed off by the day

           will not go quietly into fascism—

This imperfect Union

           is tattered and torn,

           hanging on by threads—

We cry Justice for our neighbors

           who have done nothing

           but exist in a land once

           claimed for the brave and the fiercely-won free.

They have been brave, but they are not free.

The forces of tyranny want them shackled

           turning the common defense

           upon our neighbors and on us.

There is no liberty where fear rules.

There is no blessing where hunger rules.

We have little hope for posterity.

           They have little hope for themselves.

Still, we are not powerless!

We, the people, know what we want—

           We rise, we march,

           we chant, we protest

           because it is our heritage.

We the people constitute ourselves

           by tens, hundreds, and thousands

           upon this land

           united to claim

           Liberty and Justice for all.

Though our leaders say nothing

           we will not be silent.

This is our right.

This, we the people, do ordain.

Joan Zwagerman woke up one morning with the Preamble in mind. It seemed like a good time to visit it anew.