Stress this: the lit end
of anything will
burn you. & that is just
just a slick way of
saying: running will
never save you. This
man’s first son caved, fell
to the pressure, to
the barrel’s indent
against his temple.
A body given
back to asphalt.
Stress this: we never
gave a fuck, not ’bout
Malik or how the
bullet didn’t split
the air, but split those
edged-up, precise hairs
of his caesar, to save
the man the burden
of years fearing death.
from Bastards of the Regan EraFind more by Reginald Dwayne Betts at the library
Copyright © 2015 Reginald Dwayne Betts
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Four Way Books.