THE SANCTITY OF PRIVILEGE
Desperate whores
don’t sleep on streets
in Mexico City thin with
holes and tired arms. Prefering
instead to ply their trade
in the splendor of burned
and burning eyes.
Like shadows
they move on
broken glass. Battered
prophets kneeling
beyond redemption
at porcelain
alters.
Here is where they stand
to hear
the voice of
privilege.

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Ahasiw - Meat Baby

AP: I didn’t really “get it” when Ahasiw produced this website. As with most things he was far ahead of the curve, embracing a new venue for his polemics of action. I caught up with him later, only to find he had already moved on.