Photography © Lauren Shear

 

Thirteen Ways of Looking at Riot Cop

I.

Children pantomime death
in the Dunkin’ Donuts parking lot.
The riot cops are all the shadows
in the moonlight. Every one of them.

II.

Vacate clergy from the church.
Tear gas the protesters.
Project strength while the president
holds the Bible upside down.

III.

Federico writes from Santa Ana,
where he photographs the riot cops’ faces.
“I see a lot of inexperience, fear,” he writes
“and a plain dislike for the city
they are well-paid to protect.”
He’ll be back again the next night,
after being shot with a rubber bullet.

IV.

When he sleeps his ears will ring with broken glass.
When he dreams it will be of flame and bludgeons.
His eyes will snap open as bricks shatter storefront windows,
set trash cans on fire. This is real. He knows this
the way he knows a familiar photograph
in a stranger’s family photo album.

V.

You are no riot cop.
You are no riot cop.
You are no riot cop.

You’re just another stormtrooper.
Remember: You chose this.
You could have said no.

VI.

In Louisville there was a gun,
then there was no gun,
and then there was only an absence,
18 fired rounds and no body cameras.

VII.

What was the crime again?
Selling loose cigarettes?
Passing a phony $20 bill?
Playing with toys in the yard?
Such fearsome criminals.
Such brave, brave men.

VIII.

The night black uniforms,
the glistening of metal.
Panzer man, Panzer man …

IX.

An immigrant friend calls
to tell me she’s afraid her activism
may be putting her citizenship
at risk.

She has broken no laws, commits no violence,
but feels the police are too powerful
to challenge.

She is afraid, and I have no balm.

X.

The white ones with actual guns
threatening public officials
in government buildings?

Pay no attention …

XI.

They block out their badge numbers
with electrical tape, as though
that separates them from who they are.

XII.

A cop in Denver jokes of starting a riot.
50 cops in Alabama arrest 14 protesters.
In Seattle, a riot cop removes a fellow officer’s knee
      from someone’s neck.
In Buffalo police shove an old man to the ground.
In St. Louis four officers are shot.
In Los Angeles, in Boston, in New York and everywhere
the world is on fire and no one knows how to make it stop.

XIII.

If everyone is out here,
who exactly am I protecting?

 

Victor D. Infante is a writer of poetry, fiction and journalism living in Worcester, Mass. He is overly familiar with many, many rock clubs and dive bars. He is an Aquarius, with all that entails, and has serious opinions about “RuPaul’s Drag Race.”

Lauren Shear is a museum professional, public historian, and lifelong resident of Massachusetts. She has been working with activist groups since college and has been seeking ways to support communities under attack ever since.