rally, really, ratty, rally

it was onehundredandfour degrees out this late morning. we stood in a group and protested, they yelled, we yelled back. the volley of praises in a call and response from the teachers to the students to the honking drivers. heat and sweat. per the usual. mind you, it's late september we're still sweating in the burning sun. the unions came out, the local 409's and the local 133's came out. a coalition of religious workers led a prayer while a man pounded a middle eastern drum. we held signs, posters, bullhorns, wheatpaste, markers. screaming in the heat. screaming in the sun. we sat on our bikes under a tree and felt the heat ply through the dried leaves. rally in a burning autumn. really ratty.

what a pretty couple

these dancing pigs escort each other in a sweaty sashay up a forget road. it's broad daylight. brash and brazen they tango across lanes, ever so often flashing a light or sounding an indecent siren. these secret lovers hide down dark roads, they emerge only to arrest and harass then sink away. they're voyeurs and saviors and criminals.

locked up, thrown away, arrested. i've been in a 400 square foot cell these summer months. i've forget myself and spent the days gazing at a fourty eight star'd flag. old glory, old glorified.

escape through the open gate in the side yard. the grass was cool as and the voices followed slowly. quick step and the clicking of heels echoes into the street. she didn't see the exit, it's better that way.

a girl with a camera too large took my picture as i walked out. when i asked to see it she refused.