I Am a Weed

I am a weed.
I grow in your neighborhood
My hair is as green
As your manicured lawn
My skin is a canvass
Of dreams and graffiti
I do not subscribe
To your rules or dress codes
You tell me to “get a job”
When I wish to simply live

I am wild.
I can grow freely.
I have no desire to be domesticated
I can soar through the city
On foot, on bike, atop trains
I can climb walls
Like a creeping vine
We cluster together
Crashing on sofas
You call our squatting illegal
When we reclaim what you abandon

I am attached to you.
Enslaved by your consumption
I cling to your being
I breathe your pollution
I clean your motel rooms
I bring your food when you dine
I count your winnings at the casino
You throw me away
Yet I create art from your waste

I am maturing.
My roots grow deeply
Giving food, water, and ideas
To others like me
I share my skills
I share money
I continue to creep
Through your infrastructure
Waiting for critical moments
To spark a revolution
So that more can be free

I am a weed.