emergencies
Jay Scott

maybe black baby
skin
at age ten
becomes ripe enough for
bullet holes
 
9-1-1 calls
empty the street
empty the house
fill it with people
scared to live in it
 
kiss the cement
on your way down
 
bodies rot
bodies shot
bodies caught between
 
“Running”                                                            and                                                        “Dying”
 
bodies surrendered
bodies without options
bodies stacked into
the new luxury condos
on Ralph Street