the smell…

the smell...

i’m not sure
why i didn’t notice
it before
perhaps
the window
was partially opened
and
i must
have been closer
to
the window
so
the stench
went
unnoticed
but
i’ve heard
others
speak
of
it
but
i was certain
for awhile
that
they were
quite
mistaken
but
now
the smell
is
totally
oppressive
putrid smells
of
a slaughterhouse
bends
my body
to
the ground
as
i retched
when
i realize
that
in
the darkness
of
these
last few years
it was
the smell
of
the rotting corpse
of
freedom

threatened with extinction…

threatened with extinction

an endangered breed
still slaughtered without mercy
those last truth tellers

 

 

less government…

so when is less more
is it when you have no voice
or when laws are passed
that take away basic rights
of your body mind and soul

 

lynchings…

with eyes
that’s
seen too much pain
the old man
said
i’ve seen
these things
before
the strange fruit
that
hangs
from
the poplar tree
most times
its
skin is charred
or
covered with
tar
but always
some kind
of
whore’s around
smearing
red lies
on
the lips
of
others
these days
the whore’s
in
the white house
helping
to lynch
the press
and
everyone
who
seeks
to be
free