August 10, 1968

I walk out of the Chrysler building on to the street. The kudzu has extended halfway up the building by now. It’s over a hundred fucking degrees out and I still have my jacket on, hiding the tattoos underneath. The Filth have been looking for me. Nothing big, just the usual harassment of Outsiders on drug and vice charges. None of the kids in the building are enrolled in school, we’ve got some teenage girls living with their adult boyfriends… not to mention the labs the Filth surely know about. I figure I’m going to get pulled in for questioning, but I don’t want to make it any easier on them. I unlock my bike, start riding and light a spliff with grey salt in it. I look up from the road for a second and see a Committee to Re-Elect the President sign which beams “LET’S STICK WITH JERRY IN ‘08″ in bright patriotic colors. Next to it is an almost completely defaced poster declaring that “THE BEST JOBS ARE IN YOUR ARMED FORCES!”

Join the Army see the grave. Join the Navy get gang raped. Join the Marines and at least you get to do the raping. Join the Air Force and yr a bus driver with megatons of firepower to drop on any brown folks who get in yr way.

I feel pretty fucked up almost right away and almost eat it on my bike. I have visions of losing my teeth and having nothing to replace it. I’m the closest thing to the doctor in the building because I can suture wounds, deliver babies and perform abortions. Nothing to be done about lost teeth, particularly if I have to do the work on my own.