To an LA anarchist
and to those in LA who still dream and scheme.
May we continue to stay afloat in this concrete sea...






Disconnected and disembodied
gridlocked in a social prison.

For years we've aged and lived here, forged in the fires
pushed around and tossed about in the blazing heat of Southern California.
Waiting, watching and hoping for something to change, for something to happen.
Before us and in us we felt isolation and alienation - where were our comrades?
Where were the anarchists?

It seemed in the US they only existed in rumors on the evening news or elsewhere -
Santa Cruz, San Francisco, the Pacific Northwest, or New England.






Once a rumor and invisible
slowly growing inmpenetrable
The Coming Anarchy, The Coming Community,
The Coming Insurrection.

As the years passed and whatever tattered remnants of anarchism in LA lay to rot,
far and wide it bloomed. Anarchism seemingly on the upsurge.
Yet here for what seemed forever, yearly anarchist gatherings rehashed the same
perspectives, the same tactics, the same workshops. Round and round in circles we
went to gatherings designed to create converts rather than meet, greet and scheme.






Disfigured, we must grow
we must take shape and form
How is to be done?
How to find one another?

We cannot wait any longer. There is and will be no Messiah. There is no use in
trying to convert as missionaries. We exist and we are of all ages and backgrounds.
We must find each other. We must create events, spaces for us to meet monthly,
bi-monthly. To meet, greet and scheme. To find commune. To break the lack of age
diversity and the dress code. In spaces of neutrality, spaces of comfortability, spaces
where we can come out and find each other. From there, all else begins and can begin.




One step at a time... Forward we wade... Towards a new direction.