We’d been squatting near the worms
in the White House lawn, protesting
the Keystone Pipeline =$=$=$=$=$=$=>>;
i could sense the dear worms
through the grillwork fence,
twists & coils of flexi-script, remaking
the soil by resisting it ...
After the ride in the police van
telling jokes, our ziplocked handcuffs
when the presiding officer asked:
— Do you have any tattoos?
— Yes, officer, i have two.
— What are they?
— Well, i have a black heart on my inner thigh &
an alchemical sign on my ankle.
— Please spell that?
— Alchemical. A-L-C-H-E-M-I-C-A-L.
— What is that?
— It’s basically a moon, a lily, a star & a flame.
He started printing in the little square
Young white guy, seemed scared. One blurry
tattoo on his inner wrist ... i should have asked
about his, but couldn’t
cross that chasm. Outside, Ash
Wednesday in our nation’s capital. Dead
grass, spring trees
about to burst, two officers
beside the newish van. Inside,
alchemical notes for the next time —