Flea

I have had the freedom of history,
survive unchanged. A revolutionary,
I create movement, friction—I'm a constant
black spot causing itches, an irritant
raising weals on the body politic.
I call them parasites, bloodsuckers—
reactionaries who bloat on others.
I unnerve them, goad them into panic
then stir the masses till anarchy breaks
out like the plague. (What's a little spilt
blood between friends?) I've had history's
freedom. A revolutionary, a reactionary,
I perfected my dual nature before thought
began. I'm a constant black spot
constantly moving. And what I am, I am not.