anybody smart would call the police if they were beaten
but i love you too much to protect myself
and the bruises look like hearts anyway

Lars lifts opens the toilet seat. The hinge squawks and he mimics the sound with his mouth. A dumb smile folds out on his face like someone unrolling a beach towel. He sits without dropping his pants or underwear. The cops are just about to leave through the screen door. Maggie offers a departing sacrament of right out of the oven of crispy flakey Pillsbury biscuits. They wave their hands parallel to the ground refusing. Maggie pulled the biscuits out too early. The bottoms are tan and dimensional but the tops are sloppy. They look like they have a glaze but they don’t have a glaze. They are pasty but still hot to the touch. The pan is hot. Maggie is wearing maroon oven mitts. One of the cops gets his foot snagged on the throw rug. They walk with their heads down but don’t notice the curled edges of the throw rug. They notice a black pug named Roger instead and nearly avoid fumbling over him. The cops scatter outside quickly like ducklings crossing the street. Lars’ dumb smile lingers and he laughs with a shushing lisp. He reaches between his legs into the toilet bowl. His hand disturbs the water. His nose is bleeding. Maggie closes the doorwall after the cops leave. The cops left the screen open. Maggie reopens the doorwall, closes the screen, shakes her head, and then closes the doorwall again. The kitchen is humming with improper wires. The light is electric pastel blue. The linoleum is too ***** to sleep on. Maggie’s ******* can be seen through her shirt. Lars wipes his nose with his arm and shoulder. He is hunched digging into the toilet bowl. He pulls out a baggie with a twist tie on top. The baggie looks reused. Maggie enters under the frame of the door and her lips roll out like a beach towel. The ******* in the baggie is very very dry.

"I am a soldier, the real dark knight,
when the innocent is in danger I gear up and put up a fight.
Punishing the evil and protecting the innocent,
what job could be more glorious and magnificent?
Like King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table,
I stop evil like Morgana except this is no fable.
Night or day I set out to find,
all of the evil of mankind.
Protect and serve is my anthem,
I have seen more than the innocent can fathom.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
I remember a case so clear as the sky,
a case that has memories that makes me want to crawl up and die.
On the radio a domestic was reported,
so off I went for there was evil to be thwarted.
I pulled up the car and knocked on the door,
when I heard a loud crash and a man scream, "YOU DUMB *****."
I busted in to find a woman crying on the floor,
bruises and cuts all over her with a man looking to deal out some more.
With a blade in one hand and her hair in another,
he was about to ****** a woman who could have been someone's mother.
I asked him to drop the knife and step away,
and instead he turned out and stared me in the eyes ready to slay.
Thus I realized I was staring in the eyes of a ghoulish fiend,
who knew what horrors he could have done if i did not intervene?
Face to face with a evil beyond any level,
it's not every day you meet the devil.
Smiling he held his hands up for surrender,
but as soon as I stepped forward he swung his knife and ended her.
Across her neck went the blade,
if only I had been faster to her aid.
I opened fire and put a bullet through his head,
but it was too late as she was already dead.
A pool of blood laid the victim,
next to her laid the killer with a smile inflecting him.
He was a monster a true servant of Beelzebub from the very flames,
he enjoys his victims blood curling screams when he maims.
The monster was slain but the damage was done,
all because I was not faster pulling on the gun.
The news spread like fire the next day,
but what they were saying made my face turn grey.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
The monster's mother was fronting a mob,
calling me a ****** and a pig in between a sob.
They wanted my head for killing a monster in cold blood,
dragging my name the entire time through mud.
Police brutality and racism causes panic you see,
and media can't sell as many stories when you are filled with glee.
So instead of getting a medal or being treated with respect,
I am a villain to the very people I swore to protect.
**** the pigs and scream **** THE POLICE,
no one ever cares when we rest in peace.
Nobody cries when one of us dies,
people just assume we probably had hate in our eyes.
Funny how people pull race when a criminal dies,
but no one cares about the reason the widow of a black cop cries.
Racism, greed, and corruption are very real in all professions in life,
but I did not see race when I saw the man's knife.
I saw a bully and a damsel who needed some help,
she could not even talk because she was beaten into a whelp.
I serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but my people have forsaken me.
I became a guardian to serve the good and punish the wicked,
I continue to do no matter how I am depicted.
There is hate and evil in this world and it inflicts us all,
but we will always be ready to help even with our backs to the wall.
When ever you think every dead criminal is innocent and every cop is bigoted and furious,
imagine a daughter being told her daddy, her hero, is insidious.
No matter the backlash I will wake up and serve the next day,
ready to partake in a new Hell's doorway.
So before you think every cop because of one is malicious,
remember there is more who have done acts that are judicious.
I will always serve to protect my people so evil will let them be,
but God why have my people have forsaken me?"

Violent aggression
Extreme violation


Cops called
No resolve

“Boys will be boys,”
The bully’s parents said.
All that talk of discipline
Went over their heads.

The older boys at school
Gathered around the kid
With the glasses on his face;
Knocked them off his head.
Their words questioning
His manhood and his folks
And nobody paid attention
To the nature of the jokes.

“Boys will be boys,”
The principal said.
He washed his hands
Now one boy is dead.

They waited in an alley
Until the boy walked by
A place they knew for sure
No one would hear him cry.
They each one ***** him
Then one guy had a knife
After he killed the boy
He called him a lousy wife.

“Boys will be boys,”
The police officer said
Then used his baton
On the black kid’s head.

A black kid found the body
Of the white kid in the mud.
He brought the local cop, who
Thought him from the hood.
He beat up on the black kid
And took him to the jail.
Nobody knew about him, so
Nobody made his bail.


“Boys will be boys,”
The juvenile judge said
He closed the case
Went golfing instead.

There were no forensics,
No witnesses were sought.
No evidence of quality
Was asked for or brought.
The system had its criminal
And quickly put him away
And that’s where he is living
Until this very day.

“Boys will be boys,”
Never really worked
It only ever pointed out
That the speaker was a ****.

When some people get really mad at somebody, they want to ****.
Please don't commit ****** no matter how much anger you feel.
Some people think they can get away with ****** but the cops are much more efficient than they think.
Please don't ever take a life because if you do, the cops will most likely end up throwing you in the clink.
No matter how badly a person has treated you, please don't commit ******, there is always a better solution.
It will be very sad if I hear that you've been sent to prison or death row where you'll be facing execution.
If you get so angry that you want to **** somebody, I'm begging you to think twice.
****** is never the answer, if you commit it, you will most likely pay the price.

Autumn squash soup sits on window sill of cardboard boxes.
Pumpkin pie wafts down alleyway
sits against a house.
The earthy colored scarfs. The brown boots and the blue glow from the 360 degree moon.
All look beautiful on you.

The speed limit is 30 miles an hour here
But i've been going 45 And I never look at my speedometer.
When the cop lights shine behind me glowing white and red and blue
I'm reminded why in fall, the color orange doesn't scare me.

I get a knock knock on my window from a man dressed in blue.
And when he asks me if i'm guilty i can't help but dream of you.

It's still fall season.
And I don't have snow tires yet.
But the weather man in my head said i've got time.
Mr. Officer in response to your question
Yes, I know why you pulled me over.
It seems that i'm on roadside trial for daydreaming.
And that slightly blue glow from the 360 degree moon sure does look great against your blue suit.
Mr. Officer. The color orange doesn't scare me.
Pumpkin carving flicker glow
Lantern guide you too your child home
While your there is there a rope swing?
Is the grass cut? Are you dreaming?
Is there a pie in the windowsill?
Because the baker inside.
waits for me tonight.
And i've been apple picking lazer tag
Holding soft hands in a graveyard.
Singing showtunes in our costumes that we struggled to sew together.

Mr officer. Do you even like pie?
Do you dream the scent and flavors?
Does it linger in your mouth?

Because to be honest
I think I'm going to love her.

When the aggression keeps taking possession of your soul.
When you anger and entitlements makes you violent.
When you are licensed by the state which supports your hate.
When your crime happens time and time again.
When you blacken and harden your heart against a group.
When you ignore the truth and our youth who cry.
When the sidewalk runs liquid red then dark dry.
How can you expect me not to see the hatred.
How can you expect me not to see the corruptions.
When I wipe back the tears and find my own outrage
And a part of me almost gives into hate.
Seeing bullet hole tear through my brothers cloth’s
Because every man is my brother
And every mother who mourns the loss
Of her child shot by the cops is my sister
When will this madness ever stop.

Congressmen, police and ministers
All can be particularly sinister
When they take it upon themselves
To think of us as shoemakers elves
Fairytale beings who then madly
Exist only to work for them gladly;
Drudges to work for them out of sight,
Creatures that give in without a fight.

A sense of privilege causes this.
As fate is always rather hit and miss
It’s not granted by common sense,
More like a caprice of something dense;
A dark deity that is impressed by wealth
Without regard to someone’s right or health.
And the scary people the malady infests
Seems unaware of the evil it ingests.

Limelight and spotlights are the energy
That often drives their ***** perfidy.
But just as often, these fools don’t care
Who knows of their arts, no need to share.
They while away at greed and perdition
And certainly need anybody’s permission.
They only live to gobble and acquire
And never need anyone call them ‘sire’.

The most frightful of these lustful ones
Are those who ply their will with guns.
They decide the good from enemies
And few seem good to these entities.
They only plot their murderous plans
Without regard to the rights of man.
If you get in their way, you are foe.
That is as far as their thinking goes.

For that is the point here, after all.
These creatures ignore propriety’s call.
And the same with society, it is true.
Those needs, for them, will not do.
They work sorcery behind the scenes
And create acts that are truly obscene.
It matters not what is wrong or right
They are ever-vigilant, day and night.