P.S.
THEY STILL CAN’T SPELL
JUSTICE –
J-U-S-T
U-S
they won last nite
Golden States skyline was filled with crimson
and the yellow
of a withering sunflower petal
from Cleveland’s underdog cavalry
who marched onward
triumphant
bringing home one more
historical victory
but,
I know you didn’t see it…
birthday in five days
we just celebrated fathers
some of who don’t even remember
all their children’s names
Riley Curry got nun to say
Then,
there are those men well known
that never supported
through any material means
somebody made
a meme
Black woman and baby
posed politely
it read:
nothing’s missing
another said
tells dad
do a magic trick
**poof**
disappears forever
each
stereotypical portrayal
published in the name of satire
rapid release, online sketch
pure
comedy
got me thinking
they prolly thought
when your limbs lost strength
after being shot dead
that…
…was just
a joke too
demonized
little boi,
probably off from school
enjoying Thanksgiving break
within less
than ten seconds
your playtime
was ended forever
manipulative media almost remembered
true story
til state authorities
settled with mama for 6 million
hush puppy money
no admittance of wrongdoing
OHh! if only
every moment
niggas were murdered
their family tree won the lotto
five centuries of back wages
delivered incognegro
surely,
the mother continent
should be raking in digits fit
for illuminati conspiracy theories
our rich soil raped
for it’s vast resources,
but we remain the brokest
backs
bent from toiling
in blasphemous conditions
such destructive burdens
my people worked beneath
from daybreak
to nite fall
no breaks,
or overseer will whip
mentally torment, maybe
kill
these
were our labor laws
which even oxen
yoked up, plowing farmland
would find
utterly
ridiculous
suffering succotash
I’m
allergic to cats
but constantly hold back sneezes when people say
“Life is better Now”
bullshit
motherfucker
look around
I was twelve years old
when I held a real firearm for the first time
my brothas and I visited Walter’s house
couple doors down
his pops was a cop
chicano roots
covered up any hint of racism
so we let that conflicting fact slide
the weight itself
made my hands perspire
sixth sense tingling
almost saw Bruce Willis
corner of my eye
I passed it on
grieving the death of our innocence
something
this nation
never believed in to begin with
yet,
no one ever
really dies
however,
the energy transferred
into these words
will not resurrect
Tamir Rice
still I write
hoping
worthwhile substance
might rise
from these lines
TAMIR RICE
every time
I say
that name
it’s like
there’s a ringing in my head
that
won’t go away
Tamir Rice
I will celebrate
You
until
the very life
leaves
this tongue
of mine
Artwork © Adric Giles.
Jonathan J. Joseph has had work published in Oddball and Stone’s Throw. He recently was one of the readers for the International Beat Poetry Festival in October 2015.
Adric Giles work appeared on the cover of the Ferguson themed issue of Stone’s Throw.
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