This is a political poem.
I say this, aware that it will not have the
longevity of some poems that are kinder,
Like Whitman or Brooks
I do not want longevity.
I want change.
I want it now.
I want black people to stop falling like
flies to the cracking lash of police brutality
There are no excuses.
No matter he
had a gun,
or sold cigarettes
on the streets
or “Looked suspicious.”
The streets run deep like rivers.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.