Roses on the run!  

A fascist rapist man just got to be president 

all his macho men puckered up 

lined up behind him like a box of hammers—

but! I just saw two skinny teenage boys 

running like the wind down Guadalupe Street 

toward the art gallery district 

loaded down with dozens of red roses flying— 

red hair on one of them, penny glinting in the sun, 

dirty blonde flying off the head of the other boy

none of it even remotely combed nor coiffed, 

( they haven’t that kind of time! )

laughing like they have 

like they are 

all kinds of new tomorrows. 

Not all men are jerks, these boys prove it, 

both flying, so much hair and crazy roses on fire 

maybe not a working car or a plan between them, 

but in love with somebody or something else.