Submit your poetry and/or art for this site by emailing donkingfishercampbell@gmail.com before 11:59pm PST on Saturday, February 19th, 2022.

Sunday, February 20, 2022

Angela M Franklin


A Grim Fairy Tale


Once upon a time 

a baby girl was born with both hands

planted firmly on slim hips

in Naperville a city known for its wind.


Geneva named her reed of a rebel Sandra 

born to protect innocents weaker than she 

activism seeped through ebony skin armed

with shard-laced tongue was everything but bland.


Then one fine day came good fortune.

A new job drew word warrior hours away 

to chase an American dream nestled 

in alma mater near a Texas city 

full of prairie views and monster cops. 


Arriving at destination with a little hesitation

she oops and made a fraction of a traffic violation 

tale-gating trooper saw and stopped the car

ran license and tags then flashed his badge. 


He waited agitated claimed to choke 

on Sandra’s second-hand smoke wafting

from her lit cigarette not close 

the officer was no gentleman.


Put yer cigarette out, the Jim Crow throwback demanded


Or I will light you up.


I’m in my car she smarted. You feeling’ mighty good ‘bout yourself?


Step out the car or I will remove you

Step out the car or I will remove you

Step out the car or I will remove you


For a traffic ticket, for a traffic ticket, she protested

was arrested, forced to shuffle with hands locked behind back

wearing his matching metal bracelets. 


Body slammed and shoved into a cell

Sandra soon tired of itchy orange prison wear

cellmates said she stuffed the rough 

jumpsuit inside a hefty trash bag

then jumped from her bunk plastic 

on neck and dangled until she was dead; 

at least that’s what the lying jailers said.


The End


(This year 2022, Sandra Bland would have turned 35 February 7th)







In Black and White: A Close Encounter of a Blue Kind

Ya got any pcp?
He screamed at me
I stared at thin pink lips
in disbelief his mouth full 
of yellow jagged teeth sagged 
like a picket fence needing repair
mold-colored eyes menacing pinwheels  
high beams of hatred set in a 
carnelian-shaded face and neck. 

The cop violated law to lay hands 
on me with defiling clutching claws 
ignored my command don’t touch
I thought you were a man he lied
I, in plain view 5 feet 2 and buxom.

His right hand rested on a .357
the wrong one probed my coat 
searched for elusive contraband
my kind was rumored to have.

Put your hands up, he ordered 
my puzzled female passenger  
& three boys--12, 8 & 2 years young 
sprawled in the back seat 
my moving violation unclear
anything in South Central was suspect.

The cop was on a mission but
it wasn’t from John Belushi’s God 
his mission was to snatch comfort 
to strike fear from that day till now
when driving Figueroa I watch my rear   
view since Winter of 1979  
when widow Eulia Love was blasted 
12 times in front of her babies
from two officers’ hands planted 
on guns that were paid to serve and protect her.






Warning: disturbing content about global pigs

1
I remember the feast of my first luau
I could tell you about the drinks, native songs,
buffed Polynesian men brandishing flaming batons
but lean in and listen while I tell you about the roasted pig,
the spit shined burnished skin, crispy mouth wrapped 
around a wrinkled apple
the animal’s singed eye sockets ringed 
with cherries and pineapples
its body reposed on a carpet of lettuce, scattered wedges 
of watermelon and grapes decorate the pork platter.
Hold that image.

2
Now let me tell you about the rape  
of Eritrean women spoils of conflict. 
Men declared war but woman and children died.
One young woman ripped from her village
12 soldiers zealous to ruin their enemies’ wives
thrust and spent themselves inside her womb 
12 hours she begged and wept.

3
The men thought they killed 
her to send a message so they packed  
her tight with rocks, glass, sticks, and trash
stuffed her like a pig shocking 
the attending physician as each bloody piece he pulled
clinked when dropped inside the tin bin by hospital bed.

4
Half dead the woman’s thin legs unable to stand
remembered how the men tossed her battered 
and bloody in the gold soil that clung 
to their shoes forever a testimony against them
and roasted pigs.
Hold that image the next time you dine on swine at a luau.

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Angela M Franklin

A Grim Fairy Tale Once upon a time  a baby girl was born with both hands planted firmly on slim hips in Naperville a city known for its wind...