Lately there was a street
on the street was a boy
on the boy was a head
on the head was a hat
on the hat was a circle
in the circle was an a.
The a? was for anarchy,
anarchy of mind
anarchy of body
anarchy of politik
and anarchy of dress.
His jeans were destined to be compost,
his politik was designed to follow.
his brains were to be wrapped in plain white bread
for the worms to share when he was dead.
His friends came in boxes
that later were burned
his head buried foxes
that later returned.
The foxes ate rubbish
the friends all ate pies
they were vegan for a reason
the anarchists surmised.
But the foxes were many
the rubbish was vast
they turned into plants
that contained chloroplasts.
they ate the sun up
and they made it their own
and they breathed out the pieces
as crushed toblerone.
A triangle treat
for a triangle few
the hat on the head
had a triangle too.
the peak of the A
majestic as fuck
proclaiming that life
is majestic as muck.
