plate glass window

the people on the streets don’t look very good
I walked past them
disgusted with what they have let life do to them
sell-outs, cowards with slumped sick bent bodies
eyes with very little light.
as I walk along I glance into a plate glass window
and I am reflected back.   I look away….

at the red light I wait with the people.   we wait
for the green.

sisters and brothers, brothers and sisters
let’s get those who have done this to us!
we’ll burn those who have done this to us!
we’ll burn Beverly Hills!   Malibu!
the signal is green…
we’ll burn Washington, D.C.!

but first we’ll go to Bascom-Robbins for a
Pablo Picashew.