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.

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