With spray can paint,
I illuminate my name
on the subway cars and handball courts,
in the public school yards of New York,
S M
written in sky-above-the-ocean-blue,
surrounded by a valentine splash
of red and white, not for Spiritus Mundi,
but for a life and death, part al fresco
part catacomb, against the city fathers
who have made a crime of signaling
with paint to passengers and pedestrians.
For the ghetto population of my city
who often walk turning to look
behind, guarding their backs,
I spray my name
with those who stand for a public art.
In secret if I must
and wearing sneakers, I sign with those
who have signed for me.