Prison Camp [Today's News Poem, November 10, 2010]
Oakland is litter—no. Cities are clutter.
High on the yeast that ferments in the nostrils
Launched from the bakery, everyone's woozy.
Fitting: it's dirty with diapers, its buildings
Sag with the soot of the factories, autos...
Effluent oozes—it's pus from the wounded.
Oceans of tuna are buried in trash bags—
Coffins of tin are ensconced with the buzzing.
Choppers and flies are the halos—the patrons
Oakland attracted. It concentrates armor,
Concrete and grayness together with morsels
Locked in a circle of freeway and train tracks:
Locked in a bottle of yeast and its droppings—
Camped in a garden of bullets and garbage.
"Another unarmed Black brother, Derrick Jones, 37, a beloved Oakland barbershop owner and father of an infant girl, met a violent death on Monday night, Nov. 8, 2010, shot and killed by two white Oakland police officers while “fleeing,” after they “thought” they saw a metallic object in his hand. This is the third OPD officer-involved homicide of people of color in 2010."
—Mesha Monge-Irizarry, Idriss Stelley Foundation, The San Francisco Bay View, November 10, 2010
http://sfbayview.com/2010/what-part-of-%E2%80%98killed_unarmed_black_man-murder%E2%80%99-doesn%E2%80%99t-opd-understand/
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