with stolen skateboards and MD 20/20
tucked in bomber sleeves we cut
across a long dead town to where the drainage
drains. with stolen cans of spray paint
we covered worn markings of sabbath
and priest with god is
dead and nonexist.
the braver boys huffed.
the shy girls swallowed. of course
the inbetweens we did not
claim as our own. you either
fucked or not. you either were fucked
or not. nay way those clean
whistle types mattered as much
to us as the mass open sky or spread
out undeveloped land it was all
right behind our squat but for sale and
we only wanted to steal from
above every chance we could escape.