activist.

you had me at "sociopolitical economics."

i confess,

i've only had opinions

but no gut.

i confess,

you are not adonis

born of this earth.

you were not baked

in an eighty-seven degree urban

summer oven 'til golden brown

or cooked through,

though i like that you are soft

and raw.

i dig your seasoned mind.

i want to fuck and sleep in

your bookshelves.

say, "white guilt" again, but slower.

you had me at "labor conference in chicago"

you had me at "sheep farmer."

i confess,

i don't claim to be more

than misinformed or

under-read.

your tolerance

frightens me

because i am not 

yet

there.

with any luck,

i might get to hear you slur

or lose your temper.

you had me at "anarchist"
'cause you mean it.