as if the earth under foot
were some
sort of place holder,
stubbornly held firm by
clenched fists
and steam whistle ears
as if they didn’t see that
we could see
that we weren’t the people
they were talking about—
as if the earth under foot
were some
sort of place holder,
stubbornly held firm by
clenched fists
and steam whistle ears
as if they didn’t see that
we could see
that we weren’t the people
they were talking about—