the routine violence that I lived still sneaks up on me
visions of cut throats, shanks, and crude beatings
it’s efficiently packed, yet it consistently resurfaces
ripping me from the now and into the void
atmospheres shouldn’t be this confined, or tense
it deteriorates, the wellbeing of mind and body
fecal covered loons howl at the moon and take on the team
but let’s not overlook rampant institutional racism
it’s a decaying shark, fangs dug into the meat
ripping away at it, stripping away rights
“Shut up 02843, and submit to the cuffs.”
I concede that I was perplexed at first
there was so much to take in
an ignorant cog with a baton,
and once my eyes were cleared, I got sick
“I contribute to this?”
trauma, fear, anxiety
permanently locked away in that place
as it constricts my body until I can’t draw another breath
all around me is yelling, brutality and exploitation
it forces itself into my lungs and I suffocate
John Putignano 