Tagged: justice

Stuck in Another Shadow

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I come to realize that we’re all Matryoshka dolls doing what we can to degrade the people around us, to feel a millimeter taller than our predecessor. I suppose that’s progress: grades painted in the blood of the people, but the test was in a language we can’t read. The door is barred. We’re all tired. We want to go home. There’s no end in sight. Didn’t hear talk of an end. It just rattles misshapen and defeated as if bureaucracy were a natural state.

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Pulling Up with a Finger on the Trigger

 

Police Brutality

And the sirens are blaring

ORWELLIAN MEN will wear your skin

And dance to Dolly Parton

The Ole Poke Salad Anny.

Their uniforms are blue

With bruises.

I don’t need divine kaleidoscope

To recognize the patterns.

I fired my hit man,

Instead I’ll try 911

The emergency lane has turned

To an ash tray at the bus stop,

An institution in waste management.

We keep our eyes up, holding

Our fear close

Like a handbag

Only briefly glancing

At the malnourished, mashings,

“justice” against the pavement.

Brushing lost

Cents under the rug, best hidden away from guests.

And the people search

for security in legislation:

To pray to vacant skies

Worse

To worship a vindictive God.