poem

Colossal Prank
by mari

justice, much like faith,
is a faerie-tale, 
wrongs done
cannot be made right not when
the killer is a white man and
the victims looked too dangerous,
too black, too transgender too
Cheyenne-Arapahoe, too female,
too Muslim

America, land of the free, much like hope
is a bed-time story we tell ourselves, hands
red from the days denials, justifications, 
righteous prayer to our pale-skinned
perfect 

Jesus…..God,
god damn us all. He was only 12 She was unarmed, They were only walking, 
living, 
being, 
but the Second Amendment
craves more blood
to water the tree
of patriarchy.
I’m sorry, patriots
those that die so we can be free
Tamir , Bettie, Paul, Yvette, Tanisha, Akai, 
on and on a thousand names more

Emma’s poem, “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,”
is just a joke now, don’t you know
it’s all been a joke back since Wounded Knee
Justice, indeed.