The Elephants, 2019 - 117 pages
Urgency is what drives the down-and-out band of anarchists known as Kharlamov’s Ankle in their picaresque adventures. In the face of environmental destruction, proliferation of war, police violence and racism, empty gestures toward reconciliation with Indigenous nations, and the complacency of the rest of us who are deadened by disaster, Kharlamov’s Ankle has lost faith in electoral democracy and peaceful protest. Marginalized, disillusioned, furious, they spend their days scrounging drugs to quell the pain of this world, and hatching schemes to take down those in power.
We were kharlamov’s ankle we were tiny fish zhuangzi’s minnows he said they enjoy coming out and darting around or plunging into deep silent water when we were armed. and angry we were darting around when we were stoned on smack we lay in deep. silent water
We were kharlamov’s ankle we served the occasional need for violence because protest is tolerated so long as the daily commute hang on while I make another buck mean. While mornings the hackademics retweet a friend’s progressive cat video, hit the treadmill for a five mile jog then off to school to show off how smart they are. Later a drink with a hated colleague and home to bed the peaceful transition to fascism.