anarchists in the sun glass sparkles in their hair rose hollywood chapel raise scuffed up hands into the air
in the sun
weeds fill the sidewalk cracks lying perfectly still warming its black striped back spark of life held against its will
in the sun
I saw a snake today a tiny city snake and when he crawled away I hoped it'd be all right no one knows anything worth knowing till the end fifteen feet from the curb by now it's been run over I know I know now why bricks make factories
anarchist clean my house smoke flowing from their beards set fire to my couch it feels so weird to see them here