the sentence for us is death
they said it was justice,
like a clean knife through the heart,
but I’ve seen laws drunker than sailors
and meaner than a kicked dog.
they wrote it down neat,
black ink on white paper,
as if death could ever be civilized,
as if morality had a gavel.
they called it premeditated—
like love, like birth, like failure,
as if we plan our ruin
while the sun still shines.
a man kills a dream,
a woman has a baby,
and they suffocate them for it.
mother and dad brings a baby into this life
knowing the world will eat it alive—
and nobody calls that murder.
florida just found a new god,
and he likes his laws clean,
his gallows polished,
his prayers whispered through clinched eyes teeth.
somewhere, a baby cries then dies
somewhere, justice is laughing at he grins.
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