indecent raze i sat on a chair in my grade school hallway. foam-filled fabric on polished steel. just like the seats my friends and enemies shared the night of my forced unveiling. there were other chairs on either side of me. all empty. a girl i knew but never got to know walked out of the room behind me. her last name was the colour of the cloth beneath me. she was a big deal. i could tell by her clothes and the way she carried herself. very smart. tidy. compact. a secretary to someone important, maybe. or the president of some slick pr firm. she stopped to talk to me. i noticed my own shabby dress. unwashed cardigan unbuttoned over a white t-shirt. she said something about the plight of the homeless and the failure of our institutions to help them in any significant, lasting way. i verbalized a thought i wouldn't normally share with a glorified stranger: "i'd like to whip my dick out and slap every politician i see in the face with it." "just because it would be roundly criticized doesn't make it the wrong choice, johnny," she said. she looked almost proud to know someone who would be willing to carry out such a depraved — if ultimately impotent — act just to make a point. 230915 what's it to you? who go blather from