GeorgeFloyd

And there

He pleaded

And his

Tormentors with

Their power

Continued to

Flog and flail

Him and

At their

Hand he

Died have

We not

Yet discovered

The fragility

Of life

And why

Oh why

Must the

Lowly be

Trodden upon

Christ died

For us

Isn’t that

Yet enough

Fluke (to Carlos)

It was

There that

I placed

My hat

And it

Was that

Which caught

My attention

It also

Was an

Error a

Misnomer and

A mirage

A fluke

Myself (to Tanner)

And one

That didn’t

Know asked

Drilling down

Mining and

Up came

Answers I

Didn’t know

I had

And there

Then at

Last I

Saw myself

Understood and

Finally rested

Chess (to Bean)

Tell me

Bean why

Do we

When alone

And playing

Chess stop

To talk

Or remember

What has

Us decide

That we’d

Prefer to

Entertain each

Other than

Ourselves when

Did we

Cross that

Line and

Be more

Concerned about

The other

Typewriter (to Chloe)

I spy

A typewriter

An ancient

One that

Speaks foreign

Languages but

Aren’t all

Things the

Same aren’t

Things we

Feel translated

Why then

Does it

Sit there

Unassuming does

It wait

For someone

To type

To play

It’s keys

And once

Again be

Whole are

We all

Not like

That waiting

To be

Found discovered

And free