Photo by Sterling Davis on Unsplash

twenty-four

twenty four hours in a day
twenty four years since

 riots serenaded the streets of L.A.
that powder keg of corruption

safety of unreality violated
blue and red combined

made purple, united
against the tyranny

of the 5-0
 we lived six hours away

working class neighborhood
southside Modesto

I can see your face cringe
all the way over here

when I tell people where I lived.
 never thought it was that close

until the house down the block
had black and whites

crowding our quiet street
 red and blue lights pulsing

imprinting in my brain
that damned song worming

its way into consciousness
 breaking off my innocence with it.
laurel

Are you ready to consume a creative writing podcast in 10 minutes or less?

raconteuse radio pinterest

This tiny – but mighty – podcast examines how words on the page sound different when the creator brings the concepts to life. My goal is to showcase emerging voices representing their communities and chat with industry folks to show us how to break through and become published poets and authors.

Want to be featured? Submit your pitch!

One Reply to “twenty-four”

Comments are closed.