Taken, Not Found

These days I hold my anger
beneath my tongue like a charm.
Spent all my nights pining
for joy like some left lover.

[The griefmongers hoist up their billyclubs
The griefmongers howl from the satellites
The griefmongers polish collection plates
The griefmongers sleep soundly every night]

These days I realize
happiness must be taken,
pried from between smashed knuckles,
pulled from between gritted teeth.