I speed read a book on anarchism
A typographical error by one anarchist
is quoted by another. Sic! My coffee is hot
I think of anarchy in Guatemala. Are they still selling
their coffee to a god who comes in a steel vessel?
A god who brings them smartphones? I think about
Seattle and Kropotkin, speed read to Proudhon and Malateste
because anarchism is speed. You kill, and you cut the meat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem