I.

tents searched
i slept with two blankets
no necesito
and prince slept with none
on some
laid by
kevin with one eye

the space for us has walls of air
and privacy is a favor done by not looking
'
the same white man
with a white beard
and carrying like a fisherman says
that common sense is expedient of tradition
and i hear him to my back left
by the benches where drummers stalk

you cannot
drink the same liquor
twice

there is a ripple of beautiful heads
shaved balding oily chunks floral swipes
of brown torquiose golden hair
all flashing the sky's reflection
as they are
nodding
together
nodding at a call for politeness
nodding to the call of "it just is"
and the hair burns

that smell of eyebrows
the nicotine-stained curling of eyelashes
melting away from fire catching
the excess paper of a badly rolled cigarette
climbing above my nose

their heads burn in my eyes
as they call for cleanliness
as a well-slept Ms. whatever
with the latest running shoes
implores our people to fight against crack
and violence
and the red eyes of the affected are red
either with phallic righteousness
or chemicals
and none of us speak to the toxins
rising from our styrofoam plates
from the trucks painted by missionaries

and the air walls tell me he is looking for me
the radio tells me with suicidal poetry that he is looking
and my justification my love of solitude battles
my justification my love of humanity
and my love of humanity is torn by the loyalty of nature

now when skateboards smack down their wheels
i hear guns
and my nerves pick up