Home » Poetry » THIS HOOD AIN’T DRY (a sonnet on systemic racism and vice)

THIS HOOD AIN’T DRY (a sonnet on systemic racism and vice)

If package liquor’s sold; this hood ain’t “dry.”

Which makes their moratorium bogus

Politicians boastfully tell this lie

Pretending to give tinker’s dams ’bout us.

Since there are no bars for people to drink

My neighbors share libations in the streets

Generations of trauma without shrinks

Result in cycles where drama repeats.

The spirit of laws are lost in letters

Devoid of empathy; they promote crimes.

Prohibition hasn’t made life better.

The streets don’t have “last calls” or closing times.

Do they think black folks can’t hold our liquor,

Or does this help genocide work quicker?


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