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Spoken version
A recorded reading of “Pothole under a Smiling Billboard”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Above: six feet of perfect smile, laminated against noon. Below: ankles, shocks, curses. I collect more manifestos than rain. Convoys stop for cameras, not for spades. I know the tread of hope by how it hesitates. When the posters come down I remain an open mouth in the road— grit on the tongue—softly saying, We see you.
Alternative version
Above me: six feet of perfect smile, a promise laminated against the sun. Below: ankles, shocks, curses— I collect more manifestos than rain. They arrive in convoys of slogans, stop for cameras, not for spades. I’ve learned to recognize the tread of hope. When the posters come down, I will still be an open mouth in the road, saying softly, We see you, poster. We see you.
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