combat episodes…

he’d seen
every
john wayne
movie
and
every
episode
of
cops
his
black
spit shined
boots
set off
his
neatly pressed
military
fatigues
and
sheriff’s badge
looking
totally
combat ready
carrying
the M4 carbine
slung
across
his chest
he was
well prepared
for
his starring
role
so with cameras
rolling
the team
burst
into
the family’s home
shattering
the wooden door
with
explosives
then
flash grenades
to
dramatize
their entry
finding
crying children
mother
naked
in bed
father
slammed
to
the floor
as
he tried to defend
those
he loved
then
shots fired
teenage son
in pool
of
innocent blood
dark like
his skin
radio interrupts
the production
filming
they’re
at
the wrong
address

indiscernible effort…

chambers echo now
words
of
national healing
and
forgiveness
spoken
by
once strident
and
incendiary
voices
but
propose that
to
the dead

 

ice cream headaches…

waking up
at
night
long
before
dawn
digital clock
mocks
requests
for
sleep
cold sweat
and
megrims
of
uncertainty
throb
as
pulses
of
questions
expand
veins
questions
of
why
or
for
what
purpose
have
some
died
their
shallow graves
in
the earth
of
freedom
are
eroded
by
ignorance
and
hate
leaving
only
that
numbing pain
that
last
for
centuries

 

herd immunity…

group resistant to
the rule of law and justice
because of their badge

 

garland of freshly cut tears…

placed upon the street
love’s silent testimony
dried salty white wreath
left by a grieving mother
oblation to freedom’s god

 

vigilantes…

put him in blackface
then listen to his venom
now what do you think
should those who match his color
follow what he recommends

 

story of brutality…

To A Friend Having Gain Insanity

the sight
of
blood
flowing
on
the streets
may
engender
no
feelings
from you
since
it’s
not
your blood
but
rest assured
these
troubled times
may
soon
see
your blood
mingled with
black blood
and
your flesh
detoured by
wall street vultures
or

cannibalized
by
good
christian folks
who
have
a history
of
offering
their
god
to
slaves
immigrants
and
native americans
along
with
blankets and linens
contaminated
with
smallpox
it would seem
things
have not changed
but now
it’s
an offering
of
covid-19
from
the
white house

 

law enforcement…

lost count
my soul’s numb
and
my lips
are
dried out
i tried
to read
all the names
of
those
murdered
on
the streets
can’t cry
anymore
anger’s dried my tears
for
i can still hear
the austrian glocks
silencing
the calmness
as
mother’s children
litter
life’s last moments
at
the hands
of
those sworn
to
serve
and
protect

 

500 brigades to their death…

it was
to my understanding
hand-to-hand combat
though
there were
supporting efforts
the fights
were
on an individual basis
as such
no memorial has been planned
yet
these
hundred thousand souls
should not be
forgotten
for
when a soul
battles for life
the battle
is for all life
all those
that soul touched
or
would have touched
have
also suffered
death
some will know
to mourn
others
will only feel a sense
of
emptiness
not knowing

why
nor
could it be explained
if they knew
it was
the death
of
a soul not met
that created this void
in their life
for how does one explain
the death
of
so many
to satisfy
the insane aspirations
of
one man

 

self-quarantine…

i’ve begun to think
should have done this years ago
could have avoided
the imposed sins of my skin
and act like slavery’s gone