A Response to The Ferguson Police:

To protect and serve,
To feel safe in our homes,
When we walk down the sidewalk.
Sidewalks filled with chalk drawings,
And kids playing football in the street.
A family a four walking hand and hand,
As neighbors greet them from the porch.
To keep from harm,
And serve,
Worthy of reliance and trust.

Our defense,
Those we call in times of desperation
Now restless and constantly present.
They must protect us
from the man who is ill, who sits on the corner and converses with himself.
From the teens who stand on the corner, throw slang around as they puff from a cigarette.
From different colors,
From the impoverished
From the ones who will inevitably commit the crime
It is in their nature.

Enforcers of the law.
A small step on the line, a fracture in the system
Resolved by the click of the chamber, the pop of the bullet.
Three times will show them.
To ensure we follow the rules by any means necessary.
Even when we are unsure of them ourselves.

No, I live around the corner.
Can I walk with a friend?
Can I ask what I have done?
I have nothing in my pockets,
I just want to go home.
I am sorry.




Category Five.

A flaw, perhaps,
Or crippling disease
Call it what you will
so maybe they won’t know,
won’t understand
what it’s like
To be trapped in your own
Head —
To be amidst a never ending war,
The battlefield of which it is waged.
North versus south,
Without impulse, no rest
the catch of twenty-two
years of life.
I can’t stop it,
Cannot control it
I am powerless, I am fragmented
And I am afraid.

But days come
when I feel Nothing,
Maybe even a twisted version of normalcy.
Plateau, the calm before
I feel elated like I am
Elevated, the Great Tsunami–
Oh sweet sweet mania,
Crashing waves!
And Suddenly I am drowning
I am paralyzed.
No soul, only body
Without strength
I lose momentum and I
Wither away.

and destructive.
I am a hurricane.