A Poem for LAVA

I was asked to share this poem with the greater LAVA community. The subject matter comes directly from incredible  lived experiences in the Belmont neighborhood of West Philadelphia.

A Tuesday Afternoon WTF

a guy (Ibrahim) was waiting inside a locked and closed lava upon arrival. he said someone let him in and told him someone from the library would be there soon. Who let him in? WTF?

food (vomit ?) spilled all over one of the computers??? WTF?

random shit everywhere: socks, clothes, broken stuff, etc. (put most of the non-trash stuff on the pile that said someone from the RRFM would be by the next day to move it) WTF?

can for basement keys on the floor and keys all over the 1st floor randomly. WTF?

couch torn the fuck up and pillow innards all over the place. WTF?

neighbor from the grocery store came by to complain about someone from lava's dog biting someone outside of his store. WTF?

every plastic bag on the sidewalk outside is covered in dogshit. WTF?

trash and sticky surfaces everywhere. WTF?

a hundred pages of the same photo of beyonce, the printer out of ink. WTF

it's tuesday afternoon and NATO drones are killing children half way around the world. WTF?


dave onion , Lancaster Ave, August 30, 2011

Slutwalk 2011


A Canadian police officer started it all 

On January 24th, 2011, a representative of the Toronto Police gave shocking insight into the Force’s view of sexual assault by stating: “women should avoid dressing like sluts in order not to be victimized”.

Women, quite understandably, were annoyed at this as this is a view that should have died a long, long time ago. The view that a woman dressing in a provocative manner would provide a man with an excuse to rape the woman should have died when Susan Brownmiller came out with "Against Our Will " back in 1975.

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