When Oakland took their bullet

for a walk, that runaway frame 

pressed caliber width into brown skin

within a high-melanin neighborhood

elected outsiders stamp as another ghetto.

Oakland took their bullet for a jog

to shake off the residue

of last night’s murder.

A brown skin boy I knew

since he drank orphaned milk

got his dinner removed

after Oakland took their bullet for a sprint

through screams shooting out

from the 25th Street Playground.

A brown skin body lies unheard

in an autopsy room. Oakland

dances with their bullet

while a brown skin family

sleeps under a concrete sky.