Wash
Cops coping with slop
sloughed onto metal trays
hazed by tazers, a razor’s
edge separating life
from work; strife
from sentiment.
They’re trained to fear us.
They’re trained to fear us.
Their brains can’t trust
we have reason to run.
4 thoughts on "Wash"
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Cool wordplay, important message, Hunter. Well done.
Wow! That last stanza, powerful.
Love: “Cops coping with slop
sloughed onto metal trays
hazed by tazers,”
Great sounds in this piece Hunter!