Mother, mother / There’s too many of you crying / Brother, brother, brother / There’s far too many of you dying —Marvin Gaye
then they stomped
John Willet
as he lay on the sidewalk
hands cuffed behind his back
and shot
Michael Brown
who was on his way this fall to college
Stop and frisk
Stop and frisk
and used a chokehold to kill
Eric Garner
who sold cigarettes one-by-one
on the street in Staten Island
and punched again, again
in the face
great-grandmother
Marlene Pinnock
as she lay on the ground
then they stood around while
an angry bartender
pushed vet
William Sager
down the stairs to his death;
maybe helped hide
the security videotape
then it was
unarmed
Dillon Taylor
in Salt Lake City, and
homeless
James Boyd
in Albuquerque
and Darrien Hunt
in Saratoga Springs, Utah—
how about that grandmother
92-year-old
Kathryn Johnston
shot to death in a SWAT team raid
gone bad?
in ’73 in Dallas
Santos Rodríguez
was marked by officer Cain
who played Russian Roulette
with the handcuffed 12-year-old
in his cruiser—
till the .357 fired; Santos’ blood
all over his 13-year-old handcuffed
brother David
and those cries of
19-month-old Bounkham Phonesavanh
in whose crib
the flash-bang grenade exploded
Shelter in place
Shelter in place
or 41 police gunshots at immigrant
Amadou Diallo
who died
right there
in the doorway
of his Brx. apt. bldg.
and that cop who shot and killed
7-year-old
Aiyana Stanley-Jones
as she slept
and those Cleveland cops who shot
12-year-old
Tamir Rice
who had a BB gun
and gave him no first aid—
watched him die
all those police
with gas masks and helmets in
Ferguson, Missouri
telling the people
don’t be on the streets after sundown
Ferguson—still a sundown town
maybe soon like a town near you
with M-16s, MRAPs
armored personnel carriers—
in this war against the people
Lockdown
Lockdown
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