The Institution

I want to be careful about throwing the word “institution” around on my angry revolutionary banner simply because I know it signals a politics that is sexy and indignant and will turn enough heads. But for what? What happens after they turn their heads? And who are “they”? Does the number of head turns change anything about what I feel defiant about? Or are they just as amicable as doilies or the number of likes? So instead, I think I'll paint “institution” on my banner and wear it around the generosity of my body, taut with cynicism and the flex of a doting Weeping Willow, asking nothing more than that others enjoy my shade. I beckon others to follow my cue without reprimand, and move to an unseen yet uncontainable rhythm. With a simple sway of hips, we'll take down old structures. This is sexy.