by Susan Vespoli
with a nod to Catherine Pierce’s protest poems
“Fuck Authority” by Dan Colen, 2006, Oil on found painting
*
In protest I watch eight cops unload from their SUV, then strut past me, a small granny with teal luggage waiting at the airport for a ride. In protest I say Beefcake. Fitted khaki pants and black polo shirts decaled with the word Police. Guns strapped to each man’s thigh with dark bands. In protest I say garter belts. In protest I say (in my head) I know what you did to my son. I saw the body cam. In protest, I glare. Puffed out chests and cocky swagger. In protest I say Mr. America patrol. I say rooster and remember the one that attacked my granddaughter at the peacock park. We thought it was a soft striped hen with a red mohawk until it high-kicked its claws into her scalp. Blood spurted as she shrieked. In protest I say pull it in, dudes. Fold those football-player-sized egos into cloth napkins at a memorial service. In protest I say humble. I say karma. I say apologize. I want to scream, you don’t scare me, but remember my other kid saying, watch out, Mom. You’re gonna get yourself in trouble. In protest I say fuck Superman. I say fuck cultural authority. I bow down to sky, birds, dogs, poems, and peace.
*
Susan Vespoli lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she continues to write toward finding some sort of justice for her son, Adam Vespoli, who was shot and killed by police on March 12, 2022.
Wow!