Dodici Azpadu
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  • FICTION
    • TRACES OF A WOMAN
    • LIVING ROOM
    • SATURDAY NIGHT
  • POETRY
    • Wearing the Phantom Out

2020 new poem

Broken Heart Land

Men and women drink morning coffee
    from chipped or stained favorite cups


then gather as common nouns:
    police and protesters, with only brutal


and peaceful or right wing adjectives
    in defense of supremacy as usual.


Exhausted. Police hose public walking prayers 
    for change their moral vacancy flowing 


into sewers. In every town and city they fail
    to wash bias the color of testosterone 


from their batons. Even female officers 
    grow hair on their chests 


to cover badges in riot mode. Police/
    protesters struggle for grace under fires 


tear gas ignites. Lady Justice,
    this is no time to be blind to white law 


and firing squad order. Sons, daughters, and grand-


children fill peppered streets. Veterans of the Sixties
    donate what breath remains of them.
    
Black, Indigenous, People of Color leave home
    risking the lives they have to lose, hope


slightly stronger than waiting 
    for the dominating shoe to fall.


White supporters pay attention to the danger
    you are to yourself and others.


© copyright Dodici Azpadu 2020
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  • Welcome
  • FICTION
    • TRACES OF A WOMAN
    • LIVING ROOM
    • SATURDAY NIGHT
  • POETRY
    • Wearing the Phantom Out