Justice is Hardly Ever on Time but Black Death Never Has to Wait.
A poem on the continued delay of police reform legislation.
“Anytime there is a bill that would benefit the Black community, there is always a pause. There is always a halt.”
- Latoya Holley, sister of Anton Black; from the HuffPost article ‘Never Anything Solved’: People Who Lost Family To Police Violence Lament Stalled Reform
The blood never patiently exits the body when the bullets enter. The blood always hurriedly spills and stains. The cops never take their time to corroborate the reasons the blood hastily fled the scene - when the crime scene is a breathless Black body, the officers prepare the press statement before checking the pulse. There is no time allowed to second-guess the motives of the suspect when Blackness is on the move. When a Black back is the elusive target testing expertise gained at the firing range. Why would discernment or hesitation or pause be considered when killing can be so conveniently covered up? When cops can just shoot up or choke out Black folks before having to recite one line of Miranda Rights?
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