Rosa Maclin
USA

Good Cop, Bad Cop sonnet

You call yourself a cop
Get out your handcuffs
Make the violence stop
This city has had enough
Arrest the whole block
Guns go snap, crackle, and pop
I'm tired of innocents getting knocked
while the murder rate cause bodies to drop
Juveniles caught up in the system--Foster or penal
Deprived of certain wisdoms
It's best you rhyme or play ball
Ghostface wants to save the babies with flies on their faces
Let's cultivate these desolate places

Get Inside

Get inside the ghetto sublime
I'm watching this guy in the tight CLASSIC DESIGN
I'm sure he'd like this rhyme
as he sips on the red wine
I think his name is Divine
How do I get this homemade card in his massive hands?
I know he has a son about the age of nine
I wonder who is his favorite band?
To score a date with him would be grand
But first, I visualize us talking on the telephone
And I would ask to stroke his long black strands
Can't let him know I spend my time alone
Just what would he think
If I asked him out for drinks?

Copyright, Rosa Maclin
All rights reserved by author.