Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
After many hours on the road:
Indiana and the Hell
is real billboard. I stopped
in Bloomington
needing food. The sky
so blue Yves Klein
could have painted it.
I was impressed by all
the organic food places,
decided to crash
for the night,
find a quick Airbnb, load
my stuff and check out
the town. The Back Door,
the one gay bar,
caught my attention–
Anarchist Dance Party,
tonight!–in the dimly
lit patio I picked up
some DIY zines
about decolonization,
thumbed through
Accomplices, Not Allies,
leaned against
a wall to show off
my learnedness
and new dominatrix-y boots
to anyone looking,
which meant the world,
which meant
no one in particular,
which meant
myself, which meant
I thought you might like them.