ANARCHY BOYS
C Ra McGuirt
my new place is in the back
bordered by lightly wooded fields
on two sides,&the interstate
beyond the field to the north.
i still hear the distant grumble of the highway,
but no traffic passes my window now
except the teenage boys. i've seen several,
all in denim. one with the anarchy sign
painted on the back of his jacket,
& one with a precocious beard,
all of them almost running
in shambling awkward urgency
to vault the futile fence
as if on their way
to some secret&exciting sanctuary.
yesterday, one of them climbed
an inconsequential tree
just across the fence
like there was an answer
at the top.
two are passing my window now.
i choose to believe they're destined for
wherever they go to talk about
the meaning of life,&all that shit.
they're probably headed to smoke some dope,
& lie about getting laid.
either way, i like to see them passing.
keep on leaping the fence,
anarchy boys.
at the top.
