On Veteran’s Day, I heard “What the F you crying about?” I
looked through a peephole and saw a black man shout at his 4-year son who was
trying to climb up the stairs.
Then came the smell of pot in the hallways.
Instead of teaching his kids how to read, do math and draw,
he’s getting high while his five kids run back and forth for days and nights so
loud a stampede I can’t concentrate on watching 12 Years A Slave. I’m watching another crop of criminals to be
harvested by illegal chokeholds and bullets. If You See Something Say Something
A Mind Is A Terrible
Thing To Waste
Welfare took them out of plantation of poverty and into
building across funeral home and across river is Riker’s Island Prison. At night I stare out the window and Win98 to
write on Death’s Row with Jesus and Apostles behind me on kitchen clock.
Every night I run out of time and I would be so blessed to
get a last supper.
Stress is a killer
and here comes Black Friday and men without jobs.
Welcome to the belly of The South Bronx of America
I’m just a hobo with a library card. What can I do?
I’ll think of something to change the world.
First Cell Contact With The Better Aliens Of Our Human
Nature by D. Angel Aponte
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