“J. Saunders” a poem by Eric King

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J. Saunders beats elderly, defenseless men
There isn’t any need or reason to sugar coat it
Or spruce it up with bureaucratic jargon
”Used proper force in direction of duty”
He took his bigoted fist and smashed them
into the face, ribs and head of an elderly revolutionary
out of spite and fear and rage
Saunders exploited a horrifying power dynamic
Just like countless others in his position have done
And mauled his insecurities and lack of self-worth
into Herman, knowing there would be no fight back
Lest Herman had a death wish
3 or 4 on one, just like the white gang members
these pigs wish they could openly be, get yer licks in
Decades in and still having to deal with this..
Centuries past and the same old violence
Saunders kept his job so clearly the state of NY sees no problem wtih this
He kept his breathing and bodily functions, which is a certain shame
How many blows were needed, how much pepper spray dispensed
to quell his body and spirit?
How much jealousy rest in Saunder’s insect heart
knowing that Herman is more loved and respected in an hour
than he will be in his entire life?
The racism is real, the hate is real, our enemies have names and addresses
And if you beat our fathers and grandfathers, then you’ll have your name called
and you will have to answer for your actions
J Saunders is a fucking maggot coward
We see you biggot, we know you.
Until All are Free.

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