Albuquerque, March 17, 2003
the streets were clear and quiet
rain softly drumming on tear-gas canisters
tapping on placards now wilting in the bushes
dissolving horseshit piled up in the streets.
The echo of flashing lights
remained glowing in the puddles
but the sirens now warn of the coming new order
in other corners of the city
to other crooks for other crimes.
One barrette lay open and glistening
in the intersection
between opposite lanes of traffic
at the base of a light
now free to turn green.
She will ask for it at police custody
her release the only thing they can hand her
in the absence of peace
apologies not yet forced from the mayor
by the headlines
her arrest still signaling
just their job
just another protest
just one more voice
shoved face-down to asphalt and rain.