Traffic Stopped
Horns Blared
She Stood Unmoving
Mid Cross-Walk
It Was Rush Hour
Friday
She Refused
They Were Native
Americans
She Began Singing
Old Negro Spirituals
The Crowd Began
Chanting
“Creeper! Creeper!! Creeper!!!”
A Tomahawk Landed
To Chop
Her Wrists
Not Her Veins
Only The Creeper
Vines Of Existence
She Stood Unmoving
Mid Cross-Bearing
It Was Hush Hour
Holding Five Fingers
She Refused
