Armed Metropolis

Let's Cross Our Fingers And Hope We Don't Get A Fl

and if we stay together we can ride these bikes forever…

across these armed metropolis...

althrough the orchards where the golden fields wave back at us…

And I swear that we'll take this ride…

as it welcomes an amber sunset...

sheltering ourselves under bridges counting every fallen calendar…

on rubber miles touching asphalt amounts…

on shapes held by manufactured frames...

and rusty hinges reflecting the clouds…

we've embraced, quotes carved into wooden park benches…

covered ourselves with our own crafted blankets…

palm tree summer burst as well as Florida's ballot trenches…

thirsting for resemblances...

in momentum we've acknowledge the written sentences…

Kropotkins, oak lay rest reading such brilliant theories…

influenced an author or Me...

i've composed these anarchist bicycle diary entries...

rejoicing in movement through statelines…yeah!

we're burning churches across statelines...

traveling in boxcars, strumming my guitar…

graffiti the statues with "Is fucking Dead!"…

demand abolishment of establishments instead…

we'll rejoice through traffic passing auto-mobiles ahead…

and we will ride these bikes till we're fucking dead...dead…

and if we stay together we can ride these bikes forever…

across these armed metropolis...

althrough the orchards where the golden fields wave back at us…

And I swear that we'll take this ride…



(Diego-MOuth/9.22.05)