A sonnet for Rodney King (April 2, 1965 – June 17, 2012) – a fellow Los Angeleno…

The aether parted, shapes formed, plastic ghosts

The shots sounded, exhaust fumes, broken glass
She smiles at us all, our Queen of the Hosts
Cars that ride low, with sound of turned up bass

Dreaming the streets, beneath sneaker clad feet
Basketball shots in the middle of the day
Drowning confusion amidst Gangsta beat
Redemption is not black or white, but grey

The hidden rules crossing avenues, red
The lights flicker, a mid-phase slow chase, green
Give me a yellow light, then watch your head
What it is… always in shadows unseen

Storefront of lost plenty in the City…
…of Angels, oh what heartbreaking pity.

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