Can'T Breathe Blues
Les C. Moore be virally,
virtual plea coming black enamel blu tooth
with the plain, pandemic ghetto pain truth
Les C. what’s goin’ on
with the lophodont latest, lamentable siren news
A loathsome copper tone
got a dark cloud-colored megaphone
high-caliber a-blasting the “Can’t Breathe Blues”
This fatal taser tune
has a fade-to-black exit wound
Last gasp begging words
usually goes
so 911 dispatch unheard
Bullet-in-the-back help
is always DOA too resuscitate late
Getting itchy trigger finger care
is just too much
cerulean fabricated love to bear
Here’s what a soul brotha
and soul sista gotta Goshen do
If you wanna live to be grey-haired,
rocking chair Pygmy-Zulu
Ghetto Survival Guide rule No. #1:
If you wanna take
a daytime, Sunday stroll on Friday
And your favorite café
is merely a couple of blocks away
Should you hear the oncoming,
dirge paddy wagon sound
Then a screeching halt,
asphalt burn notice alarm —
Put your hands up in the air,
and fall fast to the hard, paved ground
Display no badge rage
when cam-shoulder caught,
getting genetically profiled cuff bound
And do hope a docile smile
keep you from deadly force harm
Give some inhalation time bought
GSG tip No. #2 is the last rule:
Moving vehicular style at night
might red light
into sepia paranoia fright
Indigo thread chance encounters
will likely cause
holster happenstance dread jitters
But maintain obit thought silence,
let not eulogy fear pulse tremble hence
Pray calm patience will longevity recompense
Wait to exhale ... breathe easy;
then moonlight scan cautiously,
rotate eyes nary moving an inch
Only dare go when the flashing neon
tread terror travel
a many stop lights yonder thence
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2020
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