A Different Era
There was nothing to hide,
everyone would know,
that the times have changed,
and it would show,
more than a half a century ago,
a police officer could fire his gun,
nothing would be done,
and he’d do it without worrying
whether the entrance wound
would be anterior or posterior,
and never be doomed,
or face the risk of civil liability,
no one would meddle,
and possible prosecution wouldn’t settle,
that was a different era,
a time when a cop could say,
with conviction, without friction,
and with a face as hard as a rock,
that he was a member of the biggest,
toughest, best armed gang on the block,
even city officials would ignore that shock,
and it was a pity,
because it was a different era,
an era that had the segregated city,
when the Civil Rights Movement was little more
than an angry whisper,
being swept out the door,
as tension would stack,
in fact,
most of the police involved shootings
of that time had racial overtones,
it wasn’t just white on black,
it was the men in blue who made the attack,
the black neighborhoods were sure,
that the presence of the city’s finest,
was just another plague to endure,
poverty, ignorance, despair, and police,
but it just wouldn’t stop,
there were two offenses for the young black,
talking up to a city cop,
or, worse, running from one,
and they were put to that test,
it would almost guarantee in a beating at best,
gunfire at worst,
which sparked the riots and the fights,
even the most prominent members of the black community
were made to endure insults and slights,
many would say,
we are much better off today,
when every other seventeen-year old street boy,
could be a walking sociopath,
making threats,
with a 9mm in the waistband of his sweats,
and drugs became a predominant economy on the street,
common sense takes a backseat,
as Lady Liberty drops her torch
by her feet,
she closes her eyes and feels the heat.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio