twenty-four

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.
tree branch

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This tiny — but mighty — podcast celebrates the oral delivery of the written word. My goal is to showcase and chat with emerging & established writers at all stages of their careers and probe the minds of unshakable industry folks to show us how to become published poets and authors.

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