Play Dead – first poem on the blog


Our first step was to take a rich tradition and strip it bare we

Packed adults into slave ships, infants and children were buried

Imprison the men and force the women to bare these

Illegitimate children by the same hand the whip’s carried


Still think we can help by sending out missionaries

Pretending that somehow the shit is different, barely

Many young brown men have a choice, the decision’s scary

Express lane to the cemetery, or a potential pit stop penitentiary


We call their women ‘bitches’, their men ‘niggers’, clearly

There’s an incentive to dismember their self image ’til they carry

Chains like they were rings, ask for change we’ll claim it heresy

Only in name the legacy complete, ‘MLK’ in vain declare the street


Generations of recidivism grooms babies faced with a prison sentence

Privatize and keep drugs illicit guarantees the banks get all they need

Can we pretend they ain’t got beef with walls built to keep them quarantined

Rail road tracks, highway like a leash, and poverty taken as normalcy?


Asthmatic brats from the smog they breath, our carbon foot printed on their eaves

Throats choked by crack and speed, muzzled by TV and liquor ennui

When education makes them ornery, the answers easy – get more police

We say play dead, don’t bark or breathe, good dog, now heel and walk with me

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