repeatedly raped…

repeatedly raped

history of degradation
denial of family rights
rejection of equality
covert systems of bondage
black life in america

 

 

senior class project…

graduating senior

imagine
headlines
20-year-old black male
unknowingly
rapes
15-year-old white female
as
part
of
a senior class tradition
at
a private religious school
now
doesn’t that
just turn
your stomach
but
does the fact
the rapist
was
white
make it
better

dubious…

dubious

two
naturalized citizens
that had fled
the carnage
in syria
one
retired judge
sporting
an alligator briefcase
three
soccer moms
wearing
the latest
neighborhood fashion
two
senior citizens
wearing
behind-the-ear hearing aids
three
elementary school teachers
with
bloodshot eyes
most likely
from
reading composition papers
one
middle-aged man
with
an indistinguishable accent
and
you
one
minority cherub
with a broken wing
from los angeles
fallen
from grace
facing
a terrestrial hierarchy
a jury
of
your
peers

shell game…

shell game

most days
i just make
a brief appearance
then i’m
covered up
shifted
left
or
right
before
someone reaches
to find me
they rarely do
the odds
are against them
with this
slight-of-hand game
in fact
few
ever find
the truth

prime time justice…

prime time justice

aunt bea
said
i was
just thinking
juries
should be setup
like
the voice
talent show
you know
where
they can’t see
who’s performing
that way
we’d have
real blind justices
not
judgements
based on
physical appearance
or
how well they
dance
in the courtroom
with facial expressions
of innocence
or
of denial
the jury
would
just
listen to the information
and
then
render a judgement
but
i’m certain
the public relation attorneys
might be opposed
to such a system
i mean
how could they
justify all their
acting classes
and
qualify
for
primetime emmy awards

and it will come to pass…

and this will come to pass

they will
lay
your body
down
bury it
into the ground
without
the sound
of justice
so
go ahead
wave
your banners
of promised equality
stain them
with fresh blood
and watch
while
the winds
of reality
fray
whatever hopes
are
woven into
the delusional fabric
of your life
and
i
shall stand
atop
your grave
issuing
words
of praise
knowing
all the while
that
your death
will
be forgotten
before
the next
equinox