Crochet Guerrillas - by Kaitlin
We scoot in at sundown,
flashlights in our teeth,
to wrap chill metal
in a pre-measured cuff of wild warmth,
whipstitching up the side to secure,
snip-snip
top it with Mae's freaky failed glove,
and shrieking with glee
we pound around the corner
to Jamie's waiting Jetta,
squealing
laughing
gone.
Softening the urban landscape
one cold post
at a time.
