 Thank you Jack and Dottie for organizing this. Thank you everyone for coming Yeah, that's what I'm gonna read about It's a little bit longer than I usually write It's parts of a much longer piece that's been going on lately. This is called the second dream People talk about FEMA camps being prepared for the homeless and the dissidents our great fear of the trap of incarceration of a bard cosmos a Great torture is that because we so dearly love moving through the world we love in liberty and The homeless kids are manifesting in the wild zone between the fascist boots They bring this groaning planet their energies to rearrange it into liberty. I Know this because I know them and have seen it manifest been to their fugitive gatherings that are chased from curb to curb in In the dream of a year ago We were in one of the those internment camps and there had made a place of cooperation out of what we had They couldn't fence that in it always arises out of evolutions organization We will be extinct if we murdered that The spirit of it that we made was within my sleeping limbs They could walk on it Anywhere together with young brothers and sisters. We were with they made it human Sturred up and old pots and pans brought out of slavery Outside the fence to the young soldier in a cloud of bewilderment Trapped outside what is arising in the very guts of the police state The Greeks who refused the bankers government's austerity are taking care of each other in its despite They share a pot of chickpea soup. They come across town to get None of them are slaves Some of us there already the children of people who had jobs One I know who lived in a tent with his mother They had an extension cord so he could play on his playstation Sometimes they worked in a fancy hotel mother and son and The tent has become the symbol of every occupation here and around the world I Was gone 20 minutes to an appointment says boomer when I got back They were throwing my drum set and other stuff into the garbage truck. I barely got it back It didn't look like they were planning to store it like they claim they do They destroy things and lose them and you have to start all over again IDs and everything so you can't get anything done or get anything He outlines the word thunk on his cardboard next to the word coin On his head a knit cap with the little animal ears I also have my totems of a shy humankind the last kid ones For all their feuds over an inch of curb or a selfish candy bar that keeps the world Turning, you know Life is a desert of miracles writes poet Jack Hirschman Each of us up on an anchorites pillar of our own selves looking down on the radiant land On the side of ankles blackened they stick out from a slammed open threshold Now my mixed up symbols am I up or down? Below is above as the halt lead on and the margins make a break for the light of each day With the grime of their journey I Hear the wood science forgiveness in the cardboard that covers you It's shadowy planes down that late alley in the territory where you hide And I seek you between two tall bank buildings in their dead blue glow This is not a love poem. I Simply heard a name or a voice passing in some dark decade Saying with no hope of being answered today is my birthday out of the dark All talking to our attentive echoes Waiting for the next skirmish in urban urban camos in ghillie suits of patches hitching up tanned carts to reassembled rides and so on down the coast of veterans Who outfoxes the system suicide the hungry fox the red one? coyote boy when all turns desert Living in caves living in the subways pulling up stakes so lightly on the earth passing around the leavings The last stick insect an old man The last cigarette a lightning bug and the subterranean civilization of the red ants Red tents and black ones. I am a communist anarchist. He said must break these bonds The thrown out are not bounded in the same way All along Ella Street leaning against the board hoarding all shades of us Who are who we are black and white and that fine man with his long native hair? Tied back eating something silently Thank God for a mild night Two blocks down from the Hilton Thank you