Vox Populi

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John Grey: The Arrest

Across the street,
I watch as one cop
slaps a kid against a wall, twists his arm up behind his back
while the other frisks him. He’s a crook,
I say to myself,
and I suddenly feel safer. But then I think,
what if he’s innocent.
And then none
of us are safe.
I walk away thinking
well as long as I’m innocent and as long as no one assumes I’m guilty
then I’m as safe
or as unsafe
as I was
right before I saw this incident. As the cops drag
their suspect away,
I thank them
for clearing that up for me.

Published in Project NIA.


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This entry was posted on March 17, 2016 by in Poetry, Social Justice and tagged , , .

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