… And they, since they
were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.
—Robert Frost, “Out, Out”
In Chicago, kids are beaten. they crack
open. they're pavement. they don't fight, they die.
bodies bruised blue with wood. cameras catch
us killing, capture danger to broadcast
on Broadways. we Roseland stars, made players
for the press. apes caged from 1st grade until.
shake us. we make terrible tambourines.
packed into class, kids passed like kidney stones.
each street day is unanswered prayer for peace,
news gushes from Mom's mouth like schoolboy blood.
Ragtown crime don't stop, only waves—hello.
crime waves break no surface on news—goodbye.
every kid that's killed is one less free lunch,
a fiscal coup. welcome to where we from.
2010
Regular
Contemporary
2023
Poetic Form
Police Brutality
Racial Injustice
Antanaclasis
The repetition of a word within a phrase, in which the second use of the word utilizes a different and sometimes contrary meaning from the first.
Epigraph
a short quotation or saying at the beginning of a book or chapter, intended to suggest its theme
Metaphor
a comparison between two unrelated things through a shared characteristic
Simile
a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”
Sonnet
A poem with fourteen lines that traditionally uses a fixed rhyme scheme and meter.