air and earth

there are spaces amidst the sidewalks

in places both landlocked 

and seaside

that lack love, not within, but from short drives away

where numbness is prescribed from polished estates

 but here, the cement is cracked. 
between these uneven gaps

a strike slip fault line persists

3 strikes to a prison pipeline

and weeds growing between bricks

like weed growing to feed the kids.

there’s only X jobs in the system

that aren’t paying 7.25 for people in these credentials

and if they’re all taken, 

by my wisdom,

one can only reach his highest potential

if he lives off licit and illicit means to make rent...

now you tell me, 

if you were born here, in this transect of neglect,

and were given choice A to slave for pocket change dimes

or plan B but know freedom lies between friends' graves and crime time

i think between these cracks you’d see

that C is what he really needs, though it's none of the above.

he needs your love.

by C. Lang