Jaye-kun

Blue-grey rain drizzles From a leaky sky, Blends with oil rainbows That almost beautify The drug-sick alleys, And pawnshop avenues, The page-splatter streets Of crime wave news. In hungry winter, I Commit a petty crime, To get myself locked up; I rot my too-much time Just to find the space For a warm steel bed; And I get white crackers When I ask for bread. Cops patrol poverty, Yet ignore nine-one-ones, Packing corrupt cell blocks With hollowed out sons Of hallowed half men; The mayor pockets wealth, Growing fat and rich On the poor’s poor health. One day a runaway Sick of daddy’s dark pride, Living as a throw-away, Estran