of synagogues and fruit stands, silent in K, CD players and indian-style airplane flights

There is no Safe way
There is no Safe way ever
to approach radical anarchists
There are no words
in any Safe way
I was 14,15
in a country that understood
how to hate
you taught me to have hate
I have been working on this wheel for years, grandmother
molding my hate into a shape that will make it Safe
I need a Safe way to breathe surrounded
hats bike vegetables from dumpsters
you spoke to me no great philosophy
but you took any Bry Son and slide yourself into him
showing a way out of wheels, spoke patterns
marvel hero marvel at this nothing
in any Safe way
a cart
a face
a heart
you hate

Saw you in the Safeway
My sweater, that hat I remember
Organic produce
I watch you tear down Hawthorne on your bike
Loneliness is just a manifestation of our moments
in that rainforest
barefoot in circles
screaming at the masses
preaching with our hands