Will you do politics tonight?

I can court a tornado
Under a blue sky
As I pretend to be
Mononoke
Or her shadow
(I dunk her shadow
In my black tea sometimes.)
And sit staring at
My plate making love
With the deep-fried samosa
And think
It’s a good day
To not die
In a riot.

Something burns
(But I was Mononoke's shadow
Fuck off, maybe?
I am an automata
How could you not know?)
I can still
Wear my privilege
Tucked inside my bra.

When the winds blow
My shoelaces tremble
A bit
I use my right shoe
To part the sand
Digging
For spaces
To not be
To not form seditious thoughts,
I could languish
In some prison
'Cause I worship
A subaltern god
And eat
Like a peripheral woman
(How can one eat like that?)
And smoke
Like a pagan
Waiting for a new element
To pop up
From this chaos
(Fuck the chaos!
I could have fucked the chaos!)
I can deconstruct
The state machinery
And look up words
Like "dissent" and "revolution".

Perhaps
When I don't feel
Too overwhelmed by
The oil-soaked
Freshly kissed
Plates
Or the smell
Of blood
From borrowed memories
I will find a public square
And smoke a cigarette there.