witches adorn the front covers of ecofeminist zines in an anarchist bookstore nestled on the Left Bank of Seattle's waterfront
rare rays of sunlight filter through sheer curtains photons glimmering through fading droplets clinging to cracked panes refracting multicolor
i sit in the window-seat listening to a homeless balladeer's somber renditions of Jonny Cash and Woodie Guthrie serenading the locals bustling down Pike Street Market while the Olympic Mountains keep their vigil across a lonely bay
Emma Goldman whispers for Alexander Berkman and i balance on mismatched cushions considering Proudhon's insistent inquiries while Bakunin smirks nursing secret heresies of insurrection
colorful posters are paper-machéd across the walls with slogans of struggle scrawled in sisterhood and solidarity stickers plaster the narrow halls encouraging visitors to Smash Capitalism! or Read A ******* Book as jam-packed patrons chance sly peaks at the black flag suspended in the back room
a faint breeze flutters intermittently drifting across the open threshold lifting spirits as if sifting through grains of sand not unlike a child digging for answers armed with one monosyllabic question
why?
the banner cheerfully pirouettes for a revolution without dancing is not one worth having