Is Justice Anywhere?

by Gregory Battle

        (Dedicated to the Martin family)

	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?
	I'm just another brother
	Who can't get his thundering beats off the streets,
	And pondering will he be strong enough—
	Wandering in this world long enough
	To sit in a Whistler rocking chair?
	For this America which grieves me—deceives me—
	Has not been particularly fair!
	How dare anyone demonize my dark skin;
	There is a tender soul and heart beating within.
	The police hassles, the struggle to get graduation tassels
	Seem to be a dead-end game.
	Can't claim the American dream—in poverty I scream!
	What about 499 if not a Fortune 500 share?
	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?
	When the only loan is elaborate rejection
	Feared for this warrior reflection and mangled hoods
	To shield the mostly evident socially-abhorrent erection.
	Can't naturally pose unless blue eyes get froze;
	The only steady job is to stress or get mobbed
	After knocking pitches off diamond bitches
	Way up in the air—the steroids that pierce my tongue
	Don't erase their motel reservations for muscles bronze,
	Or their racist objection of my broad nose and kinky hair!
	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?
	How can a good brother stand on top to get his props,
	Unless the false-witness and gang-banging stop
	By unlicensed, gagged-and-broken bumper lights cops
	Who billy-club smack us, and swat to attack us,
	Then get reborn from their political porn
	Of locking our groins in their hypocritical cuffs,
	Or Travon executions. Enough! Enough!
	The grudge-fudge judge could sentence me until I'm 93,
	But who's the real menace to this brother's society?
	Need Popeye's spinach just to replenish
	The broken, homeless circuitry to escape pimps of impropriety
	Who sell black-and white stripes for the plastic-crack we swipe
	To buy the dope of degeneration until fingertips grip
	With no sensation to dig corporate gold 
	For wealthy egos exposed to have black holes
	That compress our beautiful ebony mass
	Into an endless economic nightmare;
	Left out and left without a piteous share. 
	The power incest of a white-hooded crest
	Makes a rebellious, incredulous,
	Ever flinching-towards-a-lynching brother swear,
	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?
	My invisible monkey-tail, I seem to chase.
	Yet my slave-trade history can never be retraced.
	Labeled a Katrina disaster, while being blasted faster 
	Into the hinge of outer space, to get singed by the sun
	And experience the G-force, enhance my charcoal
	As the next national energy source,
	Then shuttle around the Vegas landing strip
	Like a pelvic Elvis hobby horse
	Linked to the pink-lipped judiciary
	Who keeps me looted and booted for the penitentiary,
	But not disputed to be uprooted by the actuary
	Whose numbers say my personal glory will be framed
	In a false claim of statutory....
	To become another tapped-out tax burden to bear,
	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?
	For I'm left to accept my ambition theft
	With empty pockets and bruised eye-sockets,
	And too many illegitimate exemptions to declare,
	Then look shorter when I sip a quarter-pint
	Then trip on a joint-blunt in my own grunt of despair,
	Is justice anywhere? Anywhere?

Is Justice Anywhere? by Gregory Battle

© Copyright 2013. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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