The orange contraband is burning holes in our collective pockets; we’ll need to stop our traveling and find inconspicuous places to drop it all. A hospital, chiropractor’s office, traveling circus or really any other healthcare establishment would cover our asses sufficiently. Once free of the encumbrance, we’ll need to choose where to go next for the good of the outfit. Of course, splitting up will be necessary, likely into seven or eight groups. Going down our separate routes, we should think about formulating our distinct fight songs and coats of arms–at least working ideas of them–so we may stave off insanity on our long journeys and be prepared for a quick upstart upon our arrivals. We may seem uninvited to these new places, so we must remind ourselves that familiarity breeds contempt, pledging to never get too comfortable, even though many of us will likely spend the remainders of our lives in these environments. Sleep with one eye open–both, if possible. You should already have received a dossier informing you of this and several other urgent matters critical to your survival. Heed these words and always remember your place among the all-time leaders and inspirations for change–and sometimes jubilant dancing, if the mood strikes.


Author: Aidan Badinger

Wharved.com I am a poet. I write poems. Titles and subjects and subsequent readership are all part of one fragmented figment of our universe, and it's nice that we take it so seriously. Hopefully the craft remains and grows stronger for our children.

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