Leaving WOTS

Leaving Word on the Street, I pause briefly at the stop sign that says RED. Lots of us fleeing the noise of the strike interrupting the poetry readings. I realize the street is still blocked off – tents and barriers. So I cross. Thinking disdainfully of the pedestrians who remain on the corner awaiting a green light.

As I near the other corner, a motorcycle whizzes down beyond the barriers and surprises me.

Are the pedestrian standbyers disdaining me now?

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